Knightfall
by LD 1449
Summary: It was not something I did often. Regretting meant admitting I was wrong, admitting I was wrong is a sign of weakness...and I couldn't afford to be weak-But perhaps I could allow myself to indulge in regret just this once." *No longer a Oneshot*
1. Knightfall

The smell was the first sensation that came to me, followed by the pain...I wasn't sure which was worse.

Sounds felt distorted, muffled somehow. Where was I? What happened?

My eyes...I struggled to open them. I had to see where I was, maybe then I could remember.

My fingers felt cold and numb as I moved them to push myself up, the gloves squelched as I pressed down on them and fire burned through my chest as I tried to apply the necessary force to lift myself, prying a hiss from between my tightly clenched teeth.

My eyes finally opened, the lenses of my cowl bringing light into what was undoubtedly dank darkness as I recognized my surroundings, as well as the humanoid husk of charred meat that lay in the corner, an electrical power line pressed against his chest.

Killer Croc had escaped from Arkham weeks ago, making quick work of loosing himself within the undercity that was the Gotham City sewer.

Where he then began taking children.

I had seen the medical reports of Arkham. Killer croc, also known as Waylon Jones, had become much more like his namesake than what he had been. The Hypothalamus gland in his brain as well as the Amygdala had become grossly overdeveloped. Inducing bouts of hyper aggression in the young man.

Recent reports had indicated that the doctors believed Jones was entirely beyond saving at this point. He was now being little more than a beast who's periods of lucid, rational thought had been becoming fewer and fewer as time went on, even going as far as mimicking Crocodiles territorial nature within Arkham.

Which is what had led him to this.

Seven children dead. Eaten by the thing Jones had become.

A nervous whimpering reached my ears, and my eyes trailed to the corridor where I discerned it was coming from. My eyes widened slightly beneath the cowl. Was it a child? Had one survived?

I moved to stand, staggering as strength abandoned me, bringing me down once again onto the cold, wet floor. I bit my tongue to keep from yelling out as agony raced up and down my side.

I breathed heavily through my nose, struggling to get a hold of myself, asses the situation and see what my options were from here.

I brought my hands to the floor, pushing myself up onto a sitting position, again ignoring the pain that raced across my stomach. I dragged myself towards the wall, pressing myself against it with a sigh of relief.

My hands moved towards my utility belt, and I noticed that they were shaking. Had I lost that much blood already? How long had I been unconscious?

My hands found my emergency medical adhesive, something developed by Lucius, in case of emergencies like this. But as my eyes finally fell to the injury I knew that even it may not be enough.

I'd studied human biology, basic medical treatment, and in my business with the league I'd certainly seen my fair share of injuries on both Meta's and human vigilantes.

In a flash, the cause came back to me, Croc's claws. In the fight. Even the hardened titanium weave Kevlar was no match against the Meta humans unbelievable strength.

I remember the feeling of those claws tearing through sinew, kevlar and flesh, the burning agony of it. I remember the angle, and the way my blood had spattered onto the walls, walls I now notice now are still dripping with red.

The claws had most likely torn open the side of my stomach cavity. It would allow my stomach acids to seep out from the opening, burning the rest of my insides as more and more would trail down. Thats not to mention any other of my organs may have been damaged in Croc's attack.

This was bad...

I wont have the strength to reach the surface, already I can feel the edges of my vision darkening, and my fingers loosing more and more feeling. Even with the medical adhesive I may not-

Pitiful sniffles and sobs reached my ears, and suddenly, my vision cleared, strength flowed back into my limbs, and whatever pain I was in retreated from my mind.

The child. I have to get the child away from here, even should she somehow survive the fumes, the possibility of anyone finding her before she starved was slim at best.

I pushed away the protests of my body, dutifully ignoring the pain and my shaking limbs as I staggered to my feet, using the wall for support. I quickly slapped on the medical adhesive over the injury, only now feeling the blood that trailed down my leg.

My legs carried me shakily down the walkway, rust, mold covered pipes and old wiring surrounding me. My steps, shaky as they were were not as silent as I would normally make them. In fact, my feet fell rather heavy on the grating floor.

I crossed the hallway, entering an open room where the little girl lay, shackled and blindfolded, whimpering in fear, and miserable cold.

I stepped forward slowly, hissing in pain as I descended a rather high stair too abruptly. The child stops her movement her fear an almost palpable thing.

I stagger forward, kneeling next to her as I speak. "Its alright." I say, allowing my voice to raise an octave or two from the normally guttural tone I use to intimidate the scum of this city's alleyways.

I free her eyes from the weight of the blindfold, watching her tears travel freely down her reddened cheeks. Green eyes, puffy and red from crying found the lenses of my cowl. I could hear her sharp intake of breath, almost smelling the fear. It was the effect this cowl was designed for.

I reached into my belt, finding my lock pick it was an easy three step process to opening the lock that held her shackles.

As the chains clattered to the floor the little girl rubbed her wrists, curling in on herself with sobs. I put away the lock pick and reached out towards her, only for the child to back away, whimpering in fear.

I can only imagine how I looked to her. The chiseled features of the cowl is an expression no human can mimic. It allows my own face to seem more fearsome, more animal like. I wanted the criminals of Gotham to think "This thing can bite" that I was something beyond human.

But this was not what I needed now. I needed the girl to get over her fear, that way I could help her. I could not afford a struggling child in my current state, it would only sap my strength even faster.

"I wont hurt you." I said, forcing myself to use my normal voice tone and not the one commonly associated with the bat. "Come here so I can see if you're hurt."

The little girl sniffled. "Is the monster gone?"

"Yes...don't worry. He wont hurt you again." I say, regulating my breathing as I had been taught. Lessening the pain and increasing the oxygen flow to my brain, bringing back the clarity I would need.

At my declaration the little girl threw herself into me, crying hysterical sobs into my shoulder.

The pain ripped through my abdomen again and the hiss escaped through my teeth unbidden. She either didn't hear it, or didn't understand what she was doing, for her grip did not relent.

Finally I coaxed her enough to push her away, brushing her wild, dirty hair away from her face allowing me to get a clear view of her features.

I recognized her. Her name is Amelia Sanders, the latest child Croc had kidnapped. For the others there had been no ransom, no demands. The Gotham police, and I too thought she and the others had simply been eaten by the cannibal.

My hands went to my belt once again, finding the Watchtower communicator I always kept with me.

"Batman to watchtower." I said, fists tightening as a wave of dizziness hit me. I had to refrain from reaching out to the nearby wall to steady myself, the instinct of keeping up appearances around others far too ingrained within me.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, punctuated by cold static. For a moment, my stomach sank, believing that perhaps within the bowels of this city there wouldn't be enough signal strength to reach the watchtower, and thus, our rescuers, in which case the possibilities of our survival had just dropped dramatically.

But the moment passed as the static crackled and Mr. Terrific's voice drifted through the com channel. "Watchtower here. What do you need Batman?"

"Requesting extraction for two. And an infirmary bed on standby. Multiple lacerations to the lower abdomen." I recited calmly, ignoring the child for now. Also leaving out the distinct detail that I'm the one that's injured.

"Standby Batman." Came the reply from the other end.

There was another pause in which I allowed my eyes to shift towards the child. Watching as she whimpered and hugged herself tighter, she had only been missing for 18 hours but even so she was filthy, and if one were to look at the picture my computer had downloaded they would scarcely believe this girl and the one in the picture were one in the same.

Her pitiful appearance was not aided by the fact that she was small for her eight years.

The crackle of the radio drew my attention. "Batman. Your locater is apparently damaged. The computer cant find you on the planets surface."

This time my stomach did drop. J'onn, along with Flash and Superman were off world, handling a different mission. Those were the only three within the league who would be able to find me fast enough.

A thousand different plans ran through my mind and were discarded just as quickly. As previously deduced, In this condition, reaching the surface alone was inadvisable. My only hope now was to stay in a single place, conserve my energy until the league came.

Looking to the child now just a foot away from me that wasn't an option

Methane gas, as well as other noxious fumes permeated the air around this sewer. For a fully developed immune system they would not prove to be much of a problem. This child had already been in this environment for several hours Any more and she risked her death regardless of her survival with Croc.

"Understood." I said into the radio. The signs that normally designated what section of the sewer you were in were worn and rust covered, unreadable. "I am inside of the Gotham City sewers. Lower east side. I entered through lower city entrance number seven B.

"Roger that Batman teams will be sent down to Gotham now."

With the transmission ended, I placed the communicator back in my belt, marching over to the girl, She tensed and whimpered as I placed my arms to pick her up, but didn't move, most likely out of fear, or the genuine desire to leave this place, even if it was with the likes of me.

"Where's mommy?" She sobbed.

"I'll take you to her." I answered

I rose from my kneeling position with a groan, my right leg nearly buckling under the strain. I fell onto the wall with a heavy thud, and the little girl sobbed into my shoulder, tightening her grip around my neck.

I said nothing o comfort her obvious unease. Merely pulled myself straighter and began retracing my steps.

As we passed by the the former Waylon Jones, I pressed her head against my shoulder to keep her eyes from seeing. The lenses of my cowl shifting in the dim light. My memories, coming back to me one by one until I remembered which corridor I had come from.

Marching down the rust covered hallway, I attempted to ignore the bolts of pain that shot up my side with every step, tried to ignore my numbing fingers and heavy feet, it proved difficult.

When I felt breathing through the cover of my cowl I shifted my gaze to the girl, her eyes half lidded and quickly growing heavier.

"You need to stay awake." I said, the usual bite of the bat returning to my voice.

"Mmmm." She groaned, blinking up at me, tears glistening her eyes. "But I'm tired."

"You need to stay awake." I repeated. If she fell asleep within this gas chamber of poisonous fumes she may not wake up. No doubt the tired feeling itself was induced by one of the gases down here. I fished for a conversation I could give the child to keep her awake. Finding one within one of her previous statements.

"What's the last thing you did with your mother?" I asked.

"We went to the zoo." She answered tensing against me as her body was gripped by a sudden fear "Then the monster came."

Good...The fear would keep her awake. "How did the monster take you?" I asked. "What did he do."

"Me and mommy went to see the fishes...he...he was already in the water." The fear within her seemed to increase exponentially. She was now trembling against him. "He...he broke the glass and grabbed me. Mommy screamed but he just ran."

Her trembling increased, sobs beginning to come from her throat.

I let her cry for a while, putting more distance between myself and her temporary prison.

"Why weren't you there?" She suddenly asked, sniffling in my ear. "Mommy always said you'd hurt the bad people."

"I cant be everywhere." I answered truthfully. 'I'm not superman.' I refrained from adding. No need to give Kent a bigger fan base.

"Is that why you joined with all the other Superheroes?" She asked pulling away from me, wiping her tear stained cheeks with the back of her hand, spreading a small smudge across her left cheek.

She didn't realize it, but her current position forced more pressure along my mid section increasing the pain from my injury. A choked down a groan in my throat, shifting her in my grip so as to relieve the pressure.

"You mean the Justice League." I asked once she was in a better position.

She nodded enthusiastically, her childlike exuberance quickly coming to the forefront. "Yea! Wonder Woman's the best!!!"

I smirked, something I didn't often indulge in. the fact that she had become a role model to the young girls of patriarchs world was not at all lost to Diana and it was something she took on with gusto, attending women rights movements, giving her presence in different fund raising activities and various other things of a similar nature.

"So you like Wonder Woman?" I asked rhetorically, but knowing that she would answer anyway.

"Yea!" She cried, her voice echoing off the walls. Maybe if she was loud enough one of the league members would hear her.

"Have you met her?" She asked.

"Yes. I have, along with most of the heroes in the Justice League."

"Even Superman?" She questioned with childlike wonder.

"Yes. Even Superman." I answered.

"What bad guys have you fought with them?"

"Several." I answered.

"Like who?" She persisted.

Though I'm not normally wasn't one to recount the past if this is what was required to keep her awake I'll do it.

It also had the bonus of keeping me distracted from the ever increasing pain in my stomach.

"Do you remember the white Martians two years ago? The ones that made the sky dark?"

She nodded. "Yea, mommy and me went to a shelter along with daddy. We saw them on the news."

"Thats where we all met. I fought with them there for the first time. Its when they decided they would make the League." I stated. I smirked as I remembered the league from then and now. We were all different then. Especially the princess. Full of naive innocence and overenthusiastic flare.

And then my mind wandered recalling my first run in with J'onn's Psychic abilities.

_XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

_I smashed my fist repeatedly against the blood red surface that now blocked my exit, watching as electric sparks exploded from my special knuckles with each impact. It proved fruitless, as the gel like surface didn't even budge. _

_The high pitched charging of the alien rifles brought my attention behind me, where dozens of the Xeno's stood ready to shoot me. _

_Finding no other choice, I tossed the power core of their facility at their feet, watching as those cycloptic orbs they called eyes, followed it._

_Only to soon return to me, and raise their rifles again._

_When the sound of the energy discharged reached my ears my eyes instinctively closed._

_When no pain hit me. I opened my eyes again, finding myself on the surface of a red planet, a sprawling city of glittering spires and silver roads laid out before me. _

_J'onn's form suddenly materialized next to me, and I had to fight the reflex to physically lash out at his abrupt entrance. _

"_Thank the creator." The martian said as he finished his appearance. "I was uncertain if it would work with a human"_

"_What did you do?" I asked, my tone probably harsher than it should have been._

"_I have created a Psychic barrier around you, it cloaks you from the Others. Its the only way I knew to rescue you."_

"_Then how am I on Mars?" I questioned, knowing that no structure like this existed on earth. _

"_As a side effect...you must now view my memories. In order for my Psychic abilities to conceal you I must also open my mind to you." he answered calmly, only for me to stiffen beneath my cape. If the positions had been reversed. I was uncertain if I could do the same. My past was my burden to bear, no one else's. It was private, and not for the eyes of others. _

"_I apologize for the horrors you will have to witness...." The Martian added, either out of courtesy or because he misunderstood my body language._

"_You don't have to." I responded simply before turning my eyes again to the scenes playing out before me. _

_For hours I watched the destruction of an entire world. The mass genocide of a species. Families broke, buildings burned, atrocities were committed in the name of this nameless legion from the galaxies edge. _

_I watched finally, as J'onn discovered the broken, charred bodies of his wife and children. And could hear the pain in the Martian's voice that transcended species as he weeped over the two. _

_It was a scene I had watched in silence...and had kept in silence. None would ever know of what I had seen. None but the Martian. And from that day forward I knew that J'onn was a humanoid that held my respect. Something few could boast._

_It was why, unlike others, I knew why he had left the league. Why he went in search for something greater to serve. It was why, I, unlike the others had heeded the warnings of Jason blood and the demon Etrigan when he said the witch Morgan-Le-fey would use J'onn's innermost desires to temp him to betray us, and that, because of such, we should not trust him. _

_It was also why I understood why he fought for us....because he had nothing left to fight for._

_XXXXXXXXXX_

Amelia's voice drew me from my thoughts. "Then why didn't we see you on the news?" She questioned innocently.

"Its best for me to remain unseen." I answered as simply as possible.

"Why? You're one of the good guys." She asked.

"You'll understand when you're older."

"Oh." She said somewhat dejectedly. Her parents no doubt said that often.

After several more seconds of silence, punctuated only by the sounds of my heavy foot falls, the pain in my side was becoming more and more apparent to me. So much so that my right leg was actually lagging, forcing me to a slight limp. It probably wasn't noticeable to the girl yet but it would be soon.

"What other fights have you been in?" She asked suddenly.

I shook my head, clearing the slight fog that had settled over it. "What"

"What other fights did you help in Mr. Batman."

Mr Batman...Now that was a new one for me.

Before I could answer she spoke up. "What fights have you been in with Superman?"

I thought of another I could tell her wondering briefly which of the many fights I could point out when one came to mind.

The time Clark, Diana, Green Lantern and myself had to fight, Copperhead, Cheetah and Solomon Grundy. It had been a rather rudimentary fight. No mass evil plan to destroy a city or take over a country. Such things...were left for the likes of Lex Luthor, and Gorilla Grod.

No...a simple get rich quick scheme. With the three of them simply looking for money.

The battle hadn't been as epic as previous ones. But it had served as something of a...practice run for myself and the team. They had been apprehended and given into custody before the we all began heading our separate ways.

But I told her regardless. Describing every detail of the fight I could remember.

Of course, in my own mind I recalled how Kent had followed me after the others had left.

_XXXXXXX_

"_Batman, wait up." The Kryptonian had called as I made my way towards the bat plane ready to depart for Gotham._

"_What is it Superman I don't have time to waste." My voice was harsh, the statement even more so. But Clark wouldn't care. He knew me. One of the few who did. He knew better than to be offended._

"_I know." The Kryptonian stated as he reached my side, matching my gait. "Listen..." He began, somewhat nervously._

_It wasn't uncommon to see the boyscout uncertain of things. He often hesitated. Often second guessed himself. But hardly so openly, especially not in front of me. Either knowing I'd rebuke him or simply due to the natural competitiveness between us. He wouldn't show it so openly in either case._

_I stopped, mere feet away from the Bat-plane and turned to face him fully. "What is it?" I said, quickly loosing my patience with this Kent. _

_He dutifully avoided my gaze, shuffling from foot to foot, like a small child. Shuffling is not something Superman did. _

"_I was wondering if you'd be my best man."_

_It took me several seconds to catch up with what he had said._

"_Excuse me?" My eyebrow raised in open incredulity, the tone of my voice a simple monotonous drawl, which expressed just how ridiculous this sounded._

_Again the shuffling feet and the avoided gaze. _

"_I uh...popped the question." He avoided mentioning Lois's name. Something I as immensely grateful for. At least he retained some sense._

"_I see...and you don't think that My alter ego showing up at your alter Ego's wedding wouldn't draw more than a few stares and questions? As best man no less!"_

"_We're having two ceremonies! The Kryptonian added hastily as he could feel my mounting irritation. "One here on Earth...the other on the watchtower. I know Wonder Woman and Hawkgirl would like to come. And they'd draw even more questions than your alter ego."_

_I said nothing for several seconds, and in the end, I decided not to. Turning my back on the Kryptonian before leaping into the cockpit of the Batplane._

_I waited until the hatch of the plane had fully closed and the engines began to rev up in order to lift my transport off the ground before I spoke, knowing his incredible hearing would understand it over the deafening sound of my engines._

"_The second ceremony will be carried out in full uniform."_

_XXXXXXXXX_

He remembered that wedding well. Kent's face had seemed to be carved into a permanent smile that no one and nothing would have been able to remove.

He would have fought Darkseid's entire army singlehandedly with that smile still plastered all over his features if it came down to it.

Lois was no better, even in a room full of Superheroes where she was clearly out of place she paid it no heed and had simply allowed herself to enjoy the day with her, now extended family.

I hadn't participated in the affair. And was content with simply observing. I had waited for Nightwing or Robin to call me. Reporting trouble in Gotham that would require my attention. But they never did. As if the world was willing to hold its chaos and criminal overture at bay at least one day for Clark Kent.

"What about The Flash, Mr. Batman" Amelia asked this time, shifting in my grip causing me to again pause and bite back another groan that threatened to escape from between clenched teeth.

"Don't move so much." I barked watching as she stilled in my arms before continuing in my pace.

It would be so much easier if this was a teenager, someone that would have a better chance of handling any abrupt situations that my occur down here, slippery fungi, buckling catwalks and the currents of sewer water. The last thing I needed on my conscious was a little girl slipping and cracking her head on a rusty steel pipe.

After several moments of silence I recalled her previous question. Keep her talking. Thats all I needed to do.

"Once I helped him." I answered, watching as she perked up again. "Against one of the villains that calls himself Shade. He had been stealing several artifacts from museums to sell on the black market.

"Is he really faster than Superman?" She asked making me pause.

Now that was a tough one. Wally had always goaded Superman saying that the Man of steel was in no way faster than him. But Wally tended to say a lot of things. After a good while though I decided to nod. "I think he might be."

_XXXXXXXXXX_

"_Is he here yet?"_

"_No." I sighed, closing my eyes and counting backwards from ten in order to refrain from strangling the scarlet speedster who was mere feet away from me. _

_A pause._

"_How about now?"_

"_No." I growled._

_Another pause. _

"_What are the guards doing?"_

"_What?" I asked, having not quite heard what he said, hoping that for once it was a legitimate question. _

"_I said. What are the guards doing now?"_

_I calmly set the Binoculars down. Interlocking my fingers infront of my mouth as I took a deep breath. And turned to face the youngest founder of the league, leveling him with one of my, now infamous glares._

_I saw him shift from foot to foot, nervously. Good. Let the kid squirm he deserved it. "Look bats." He said. Oh how I detested that name. "You're the one with the damn binoculars. I cant see shit. And I'm not gonna just sit around here holding my-"_

"_Flash." I stated calmly, watching as he immediately shut that trap he called a mouth. "They're standing there and talking. Thats all they've been doing. For the past twenty four hours since we decided to steak out the last Museum with artifacts from the middle east on the east coast. Thats what they were doing yesterday. Thats what they were doing five minutes ago. So five minutes from now, when you get the urge to ask me again, what will they be doing?"_

"_Uhhh....Just...standing there and talking?"_

"_Good." I nodded before standing up to my full height, towering over the Meta human as I glared down at him in that way I knew unnerved him. "Now if you ask me again Flash. I swear I will buy your apartment building and evict you before making sure you can never get another job anywhere near central city again. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"_

"_Crystal." He squeaked._

_Going back to my previously kneeling position I returned my gaze to the museum. _

_Seconds later I found an Iced Mocha being held at my side. "Want coffee?" Wally asked with his usual bright smile bringing my attention to the half dozen or so he had commandeered for himself._

_Taking the offered drink the scarlet speedster sat beside me and we both continued waiting for our target. _

…

…

…

"_Is he here yet?"_

_XXXXXXXXXX_

Wally west, is practically the embodiment of everything a Superhero should not be in my eyes. He is impatient, impulsive, naive, overconfident, careless and is ruled by his emotions.

But I realized then that it works for him.

The Flash simply couldn't do what he does without these safety mechanism these...personality quirks. He helped in more ways than he let on. And I realized just why the Justice Lords had become, the Justice Lords without him. He was essential in keeping the Justice League intact with the knowledge that the world was only as cruel and dark as we ourselves allowed it to be.

The thoughts running through my hazed mind distracted me, so much so, that when my foot fell heavily on the edge of a rusty catwalk I didn't realize it would give way until it finally did.

Amelia screamed in my ear, and reflexes kicked in, angling my body awkwardly to cushion her fall with my own body. I landed heavily on my injured side, a true scream finally being ripped from my throat as knives of pain sank their way deep into my flesh, my arms going slack in their grip of the young girl, allowing her to roll out of them when she fell.

My hands found their way to my now profusely bleeding stomach, and I realized that the medical adhesive was beginning to wear off, even torn in some places where I'd landed. I didn't have much time left. I struggled to roll onto my stomach, teeth and fists clenched as I fought through the pain. Little Amelia stood up, running towards me and pushing my shoulder with her little hands. " are you ok?"

I hissed, growling as I struggled to get to my hands and knees, ignoring her gasp of fright as she finally beheld the blood that dripped from my wound onto the rust covered floor.

I felt a shift in my utility belt, realizing too late that the child had reached for the comunicator she'd seen me using before.

"Hello!" She screamed into the receiver fumbling with the buttons. "Mr. Batman's hurt!"

"Who is this?" Came the startled voice of Mr. Terrific. No doubt when I requested transport for two he believed that it was the second individual that was hurt. Not I. The impression of omnipotence was one I valued amongst the Justice league. None but the founding members had ever seen me injured. And none of the others ever would if I had anything to say about it.

Amelia opened her mouth to say more, but my hand lashed out, grabbing onto the radio before pulling it away from her grip. "Hello? Hello? Batman are you there? Hello?" Came the static distorted voice from the other end.

"Batman here. Keep all teams on standby." I answered brusquely before I struggled to stand, towering over the girl in what was no doubt a display that would frighten most. "I'm fine." I stated. Making the team panic. Making them worry, would only lead to mistakes, mistakes couldn't be afforded in this situation.

The girl whimpered as I reached down, once again lifting her into my arms.

I tried to hide my weakening condition, to ignore it even. The strain in my arms, my increasingly weakening leg muscles, the chill I felt in my bones. But with every step, I staggered more, and every breath I took became harsher, my own heartbeat now loud in my ears.

_XXXXXXXXXX_

"_Oww jeeze...where the hell did you practice first aid Butcher school?" Was John Stewart's pain filled gasp as he gingerly cradled his left shoulder after I had, admittedly rather harshly pressed down on his recent injury before I searched for a roll of bandages within my utility belt. _

_Finding it I began to tightly bandage the injury. _

"_Didnt know you cared bats." John half grumbled half muttered, wincing with every wrap that was applied._

_Finally when I was almost done with my "treatment" the Green Lantern turned to face me fully. "Look did I do something wrong here? Because I think I missed the Memo where you were mad at me."_

"_Why did you tell Shayera about Rex if you weren't going to pursue a relationship with her?" _

_The question would have been expected from anyone else. But from me, the man whom was infamous for merely communicating with his teammates solely for work related reasons, and staying as far away as humanly possible from their personal affairs, the question caught John completely flat footed. _

"_What-I-She deserved to know." He said fumbling with his words for a moment_

_I began gathering my instruments, my cape flowing over my shoulders with the angle of my movements. _

"_It was a stupid move on your part." I stated before standing up again, continuing before he could interrupt. _

"_You tell a mother she could have a child, even give her a name and a face before brutally stripping it away from her. What did you hope to accomplish by telling her?"_

_He didn't answer, so I continued for him. _

"_You either wanted to hurt her with the knowledge or taunt her with it. The league isn't any place for your private wars."_

"_This isn't a damn war!" The former marine shouted in response. "Shayera had a son. She deserved to know. I don't want to hurt her. We've hurt each other more than enough already."_

"_There was no purpose in your declaration. It changed nothing. You had the knowledge, you should have kept it to yourself. Now you merely have her distracted with the notion of what could have been."_

"_Bat-God could you stop being the Batman for ten minutes? Could you just put it on pause for a damn moment and think like a human being? Keeping that information from her is cruel."_

"_To you perhaps." I replied non pulsed by his declaration. "There is a reason people say that Ignorance is bliss lantern. Consider that when you consider acting so selfishly next time."_

_Turning away from the former Marine I made my way back to the Batmobile, placing more distance between myself and my comrade._

_I understood him in a sense. But watching when Shayera had walked out of that room, her tears barely held back as I finished telling her about the son she may never have I knew that what John had done was an act of cruelty. Even if he didn't realize it himself_

_XXXXXXXXXX_

My hands reached out for the wall, grasping one of the pipes. My chest heaved with fire as I allowed my entire weight to rest on my arm and leaning shoulder. Amelia slid from my grasp,my strength now insufficient in order to keep carrying her.

My vission blurred, but I still saw it, the rusty half broken pipe, still hissing steam which I recalled was my halfway point. Just a few more dozen yards. Thats all I need.

She looked up at me, wide brown eyes glistening with tears in the dim lighting. "Mr. Batman-" She began before I interrupted her.

"Keep Walking." I said before pushing myself off the wall, grasping her hand in my gloved one. The black talon dwarfing her minuscule digits.

Even with me holding her hand like this. She was still in more danger than I would have liked. But I did not have the strength...I _would_ not have the strength to carry her for the rest of the distance that remained through these sewers.

_XXXXXXXXXX_

"_No...you cant love me Carter...You don't even know me." Shayera sighed tiredly as the, most likely delusional Carter Hall finished giving out another declaration of his undying love for her. _

_I watched, off to the side a bit as the significantly taller Hall stared down at the green eyed redhead. _

"_Your favorite color is teal-" He began. "You can eat coral stone oysters every day even though they give you heartburn, you get up early because you love the sunrise, and nothing is more important to you...than protecting those who cant protect themselves."_

_Every red alert, red flag and warning sign was screaming within my brain in bright colors "Stalker" but this was neither the time nor the place. Carter Hall may be a delusional fool. But so far, he'd proved harmless. That didn't mean he didn't need to be dealt with eventually...however...perhaps later. Once Shayera had gathered herself._

"_You'll see the truth...eventually." the human turned Thanagarian continued. "Its destiny. "_

"_Its not." Shayera said with a shake of her head. "Its just the Absorbacron."_

"_I've waited thousands of years for us to find each other. Carter said, his voice, the epitome of, almost sickening patience and devotion. "I can wait...a little longer."_

_His piece said, the winged meta took to the skies, leaving myself and Sayera alone in the arid sands of the Egyptian desert._

_Shayera seemed to sigh, her body language openly showing how confused she was over the recent events. _

_Finally she turned to look at me over her shoulder, no doubt ready to use me as some sort of distraction. _

"_How stupid do you think I am." She began_.

_Uncertain as to what she was referring too I merely raised a hidden eyebrow. "Scale of one to ten?"_

"_Funny." She snorted before her free hand went to the but of her mace. "I meant this!" She emphasized pulling away a bug I had planted at the lower part of the maces grip, showing it to me. _

_Realising the Thanagarian was somewhat hurt by the action. I decided to, for once, play the part of diplomat. "Hall was the one I didn't trust." I clarified._

"_Right..." She said, her tone clearly showing her skepticism as she crushed the little black device between her fingers. "Thats why you planted this bug." Eyes narrowing, fixed upon my lenses she spoke. "How much did you hear?"_

"_A bunch of nonsense about reincarnation and destiny." I answered._

_Her gaze turned away from mine, shifting to the spot Hall had recently vacated. _

"_Maybe its not nonsense...." She stated absently._

"_If you really believe that..." I said before turning away towards the Javelin that awaited us. _

_Before I fully walked up the ramp towards the Javelin she spoke. "What else is there to believe in?"_

_I paused in my stride, taking a moment to contemplate weather or not I should answer._

"_Your own actions." I stated before I made my way up the Javelin to prepare it for take off. Giving her the time she needed to contemplate the turns of her life._

_XXXXXXXXXX_

The room spun, and basic human equilibrium meant nothing as I soon couldn't tell the floor from the ceiling. I stumbled, somewhere in my mind hearing somewhere in the back of my mind the sound of a scream.

My back slammed against the steel grating with a deafening clang, eyes meeting the rust ridden overhanging pipes that shielded the cement ceiling from my view.

I wheezed and gasped hungrily for air, as if I'd suddenly run a marathon without even pacing myself.

Amelia cried nearby. Sobbing in confusion, no doubt too young to comprehend the effects of blood loss on a normal human body.

Amelia...I have to get her to the surface. At the very least I have to accomplish this. My death...it's inconsequential.

It was always known to me...that I tread across deaths door every night as I prepare my suit armor and cape. Every time I leap from rooftop to rooftop. Every time I even prepare to throw an explosive batarang.

I bang on the door of the reaper as if I owned the home he was residing in. If one knocks loud enough...eventually someone will answer.

But that was my choice...my life. I had decided it would be this way...that I would endure it for as long as I was able.

With strength I didn't know I had left in this failing body. I pulled myself to my feet.

The lenses of my cowl obscured my eyes from view, but she met my gaze anyway, hers still bright with her tears. My hand fell heavily on her head. "Its alright." I breathe, swallowing thickly in order to whet my dry throat.

I pushed her along in front of me, hoping that every corner I turned that I hadn't made a mistake, that we would soon see the opening that lead into the dry channel at the end of this tunnel.

Amelia...unlike myself. Did not have a choice. And because she did not have a choice I would not allow her to die in this dank, cold place.

For in the end...thats all that truly matters isn't it...our choices in this life

_XXXXXXXXXX_

_Diana sighs next to me, raven hair carried in the breeze. "Patience Princess." I chastise. "Intergang moves in mysterious ways." I state, looming over the edge of the building towards the Iceberg lounge on the other side of the street. Cobblepot's place._

"_Tell me about it." The Amazonian sighs again, now sitting on the gargoyle. "What could they possibly need with the Roseta stone?"_

"_We'll soon find out." I state simply before adding. "In the meantime-"_

"_I know." She interrupts. "Patience." She repeats before setting her head to rest against her forearm which leaned heavily against the Gargoyle._

_There was a lull in the conversation then. And I followed her gaze, watching as several couples walked out of the establishment, arms around each other, kissing, their faces the picture of bliss. And it did not take long for me to realize where her thoughts would go._

"_Don't you ever wish you were down there?" She asks, her tone almost wistful_

"_I'm down there all I need to be." I respond, my voice harsher than before. I want this conversation to end. Now._

"_Yes but its just a job to you." She says now raising her head to face me. I dutifully avoid her gaze. "I'm actually talking about going down there and having some 'fun'." She emphasized the word fun like it was something unknown. _

"_Maybe." She continued after a brief pause. "Maybe with someone special." She said brushing a lock of hair behind her ear._

_I say nothing. It wasn't that I wasn't interested. Any man with eyes would be interested if Wonder Woman was asking you to go on a date with her._

_But it was because of that same notion that I couldn't allow myself to date her. In the end I couldnt be what she deserved. I wouldn't be the guy to remember valentines day, I'm not the guy to leave chocolates, or flowers or roses., that would whisper sweet nothings in her ear, take spontaneous romantic outings with her. I wasn't even the man that would always be home at night. I was consumed by my work. It was an obsession. And she deserved better than what I could offer._

"_No." She said after the seconds of silence. "No dating for the batman." Though her words would indicate otherwise her tone was gentle, flirtatious even. "It would cut into your brooding time."_

_I turn to look at her. Finding a clear, open smile on her face. She was flirting, daring me to give her anything she could use, or to even deny that I brooded at all._

"_One." I began. "Dating within the team always leads to disaster. Two. You're an immortal Amazonian princess and I'm a rich kid with issues." A pause in which her smile still remains. "Lots of issues." I added as an afterthought._

_And for the third I actually had to fight down my own smirk. _

"_And three...if my enemies ever found out I had someone special they wouldn't rest until they mannaged to get to me through her."_

_As the words came from my lips I knew they didn't apply to her. She was the second strongest individual on earth. He'd actually dare one of his enemies to try something just for giggles. Admittedly though, one of my guilty pleasures was getting the princess angry. And one of the fastest ways to do this was to act like a Chauvinist. Or imply that she couldn't fend for herself._

_She didn't disappoint, as the crushed head of a gargoyle could soon attest to, the cold granite crumbling between her fingers. _

"_Anything else?" She asked, her tone of voice indicating just what she thought of that third reason._

_Before the conversation could continue an alarm went off and my grappling line found its way into my hands as if by magic. As I swung from the building I could have sworn I heard the princess speak smugly behind me.  
_

"_Saved by the bell."_

_XXXXXXXXXX_

I staggered through this maze, Amelia clinging to my cape. The pain in my side had decreased...to something of a dull ache. This numbness...I was in the final stages of bloodloss.

But the realization was only a fleeting thing, my mind now too distracted by recent memories. Memories that centered around Diana.

Regret...

It was not something I did often. Regretting meant admitting I was wrong, admitting I was wrong is a sign of weakness...and I couldn't afford to be weak

But as my memories returned to Diana. Perhaps I could allow myself to indulge in regret just this once.

I knew that she cared for me. And...I also knew that if I kept pushing her away she'd move on. I'd been hoping for it. Pleading for it while also rebelling against the idea in my own dichotomous mind.

But perhaps. I didn't need to push her away. I had been satisfied for a time, at merely protecting her. As well as any mortal man could against the dangers she faced.

Alfred had remarked once, jokingly...that every princess needed a knight.

I suppose it was something I could find some solace in, some...contentment.

But in the end, I realized that whatever was evolving between us, even as I tried to keep her at arms length, was far too dangerous for her if I allowed it to continue. And so, I had pushed even harder, closing in on myself, seeking shelter with the bat. And the darkness of obscurity it provided me with.

My armor, sword and shield.

"Look Mr. Batman."

Amelia's voice brought my eyes open, finding red lights flashing from around the corner, and the distinct sounds of voices drifting towards my ears.

I took her hand, marching slightly faster. My legs felt weak, heavy, I could barely lift them now. All I needed were these last few feet.

I turned the corner, finding the open hatch through which I had followed Croc through an open canal used drain out the Gotham city river if it ever threatened the waterfront district

The different league members were there, along with police, ambulances and reporters.

Shayera, Red Tornado, Green arrow, Steel, Supergirl and...Diana.

They hadn't seen me yet, the shadows clung to me as they always did. Hiding me...shielding me.

I looked to the child who grasped her hand in my dark one. "Do you see Wonder Woman?"

She nodded, face brimming with excitement. Her heroes were here...everything would be alright in her mind.

"Go." I said. "I'll be right behind you."

She nodded, pulling away from my hand she ran down the massive opening, screaming out towards the others.

They turned to her simultaneously, rushing up to inspect the child for any damage. My eyes remained fixed on the princess, the crease of her brow, lips thinned in worry. Worry for me.

My legs buckled beneath me, and I fell heavily onto my knees, cape falling over my shoulders, encasing me within the inky blackness.

As I look upon her now I can say...that I regret my choices regarding her.

I regret that I do not have more time...for it seems...the princess has lost her knight.

My breathing evened and stilled, my heartbeats becoming gradually slower and slower within my chest cavity.

My eyes close and I fall into darkness once again...

Forever in darkness.


	2. Shayera

Well ladies and gents, for many days now I've been contemplating Knightfall and the lack of "Closure" it really has, so because the inspiration was strong, and because many people asked for it I decided to extend this, former, oneshot.

The extension wont be ridiculously long however, and this story will end at chapter 8, the subsequent chapters will focus on the remaining six original Leaguer's reactions and contemplations over Bruce's death.

The order is as follows.

1) Shayera  
2) Green Lantern  
3) J'hon Jhonz  
4) Flash  
5) Superman  
6) Diana  
7) Epilogue

I hope you all enjoy it.

XXXXXXXXXXX

I pressed the controls on the Javelin's console, deep space sensors and control grids bleeping and flashing with the precision of well kept, well funded machines.

Machines...he had kept that way.

I didn't focus on it, didn't let my mind dwell on it, on him. I try to drown out the sounds, to filter them through one ear and out the other, but its no use. Not really. Steel and Diana work with the medical equipment we have. Adrenalin, the defibrillator, even going as far as trying basic C.P.R

Its not working, with the continuous flat line droning of the heart monitor, it becomes apparent, not even a twitch, not a flicker of hope.

The flat-lining monitor seems to grow louder in our ears, punctuated by everyone's own hesitation to speak, to move, _to breathe. _I never knew why they called it a flat line until now.

It was just this continuous drone, this simple unending, unchanging tone that seemed to carry itself across distances inconceivable. It pierced your ears as though it wanted you to bleed, and it carried on from there.

It drilled into your ears, through them, right into your skull cavity; through your brain. It hurt, and with its sound I felt pressure against my forehead, as though it were trying to drill through my skull itself and manifest its taunting resonance onto a physical plane.

But as much as it pained me, as much as it hurt, I couldn't bring myself to demand they turn off the machine.

Because that hope was always there, I always felt as though in this next second his heart would start, in this next second we would see our flicker of hope, of light. That he would open his eyes, that I'd be able to spar with him again. Beat him at chess again, discuss battle tactics with him.

But the flat line remained, taunting, carrying on, unchanging.

In Thanagar, a world torn by war and despotism in its waning years-years I had been born into-death wasn't uncommon. A Thanagarian that grew up with both, or even a single parent, was a rarity; an anomaly. Many in our world called such people the, _'Heldig En' _ otherwise known as the "Fortunate ones"

But in our culture, the _'Heldig En' _ were not so fortunate.

Considered soft and, weak, having never known the pain of loss, knowing the protectiveness of parents, _Heldig En_ children were often looked down upon, scorned by others with less favorable pasts.

I was guilty of that-I admit. I hated them. Those who had never known what it was to starve, to have to search through trashcans, to worry about where their next meal came from, to fight over scraps with the other street rats, to have to fight off thugs and others of a less savory sort.

I thought they had been soft, that they were weak, unfit to be Thanagarian civilians, much less soldiers.

It was because of this, death on Thanagar was different. It was expected, wanted even. We felt as though the death of those close to us, made us stronger, harder, more Thanagarian. _Better._

Even against our most hated enemies, the Gordanian's, we relished the fight, relished the battle. Not just the excitement, but the _death:_ the death of the Gordanian's, the death of our allies, it didn't matter.

We never understood, why we had begun loosing the war. Why our Thanagarian stubbornness, our pride and our ferocity hadn't simply carried us to victory on our powerful wings and flashing power weapons.

But I understand now...and it took this planet, these humans in order to do so.

When I first arrived on earth. I truly _hated _these humans! Loathed their complacency, their weakness. These people treated death as a punishment,a sad event, something to fear, to cringe away from, to weep for.

I hated it. I hated _them!_

But...as my roles, from spy, shifted to scout, from scout to temporary citizen, and finally from temporary citizen, to a soldier completely cut off from her own people; I needed to help them, at the very least, for my own survival.

And as I saw more and more people returning home, knowing that they weren't crushed under a collapsing subway tunnel, that those muggers hadn't shot him, that the drunk driver hadn't hit him, that the gas leak hadn't taken them in the explosion, they returned with the knowledge that they'd...hold their children again...be able to make love with their spouse again.

That they were simply _alive_ and able to appreciate every day all the more because of it

And...somehow....somehow I understood...death wasn't a blessing...it wasn't some secret to becoming stronger, to better yourself.

It _hurt_.

It was supposed to hurt. It was supposed to be painful. It made you not want to let it happen again...to use all your strength to stop it, to change it, to make it so you never had to experience such pain again.

Its what we the Thanagarian's learned too late. We simply fought...we fought for ourselves...for the honor of Thanagar, for false platitudes and empty oaths of loyalty.

We fought for everyone...but the men and women next to us...our comrades. They died cold and alone on those battlefields.

Just like he did...

I felt a hand on my shoulder and I brought my eyes to face Kara, her young face as sympathetic and sad as I'd ever seen her, blue eyes glimmering with pity. "Shayera." She said, placing her remaining hand on my wrist, and only now did I realize that my grip on the navigation wheel was tight. So tight my knuckles had turned white, and the blood in my digits had gathered at the very tips of my fingers, making them a dark, dark red color, almost bordering on purple.

But, even with my grip as tight as it was, my arms shook, I was trembling. I felt lightheaded, and I could no longer bear to look at Kara for some reason.

I looked away, my hands, falling limply from the console, resting at my lap. I looked down, to the floor. And I faintly recognized Kara take her seat next to me, in the co-pilots seat, adjusting the Javelins controls to herself, leaving me with nothing...

Nothing to do....

Nothing...to avoid looking back there...to avoid looking at him...

No...not him...not Batman...

a corpse.

The batman I knew was a warrior, bred for battle, strong and powerful, a match for any Thanagarian warrior, several even. He was better than them, better than all of them...

That wasn't him, that was an impostor...some kind of decoy...a trick...

a corpse.

It wasn't him...it couldn't be him. Not the batman I knew. He couldn't die...he wouldn't...

Suddenly I couldn't stay in my seat anymore...I couldn't just sit and pretend this was batman. He wasn't! I would go back there, pull off that cowl and prove that it wasn't him. It wasn't Batman.

I unbuckled the safety harness with earnest, almost trashing with my wings as the multi weaved nylon fabric refused to release me quick enough.

I swiveled on my heel as I came to my feet, smoothly going around my seat, only to pause right there next to it as I finally allowed myself to look back.

Stillness...

Thats the only word I can find to describe it...just...this stillness. Between everyone, even the ship seemed to not move. The hum of the engines, its soft vibrations, seemingly absent, the sound of their voices, of the various control devices of....of the heart monitor...when...when had it shut off? When had it all gone this silent?

And no one moved...not Green Arrow not Steel, not Diana...not...not Batman.

My eyes trailed over him, the stillness of his body, always he had that stiff posture, but not here...here it was a stiffness brought on by hardening proteins, and unmoving blood, not by the strength of his character.

The cowl still covered his face, as though the others couldn't bring themselves to remove it...couldn't bring themselves to confirm the evidence for themselves

A harsh heavy panting reached me then...or had I simply become aware of it now?

My eyes found Diana, a hand against her heart, the other, pressed against the Javelins bulkhead, as though to keep herself upright. Her face was an ashen white, a sickly pale that made her eyes, once blue, vibrant and full of that simple, exuberance only she seemed to carry everywhere she went, seem like shards of shattered glass

Steel and Green arrow moved closer, as if to catch her in case she fell.

Were I in the right mind, I would have recognized the beginnings of hyperventilation, an anxiety attack. Were I in the right mind, I would know that with a normal human, or even a Thanagarian I could go and help this individual, offer physical comfort. Were I in the right mind, I would recognize that moving to help a level five Meta like Diana was tantamount to signing a slip for internal injuries. Were I in the right mind, I would have recognized that I should have done what Steel and Green arrow were doing, keeping their distance, and waiting for her to collapse.

But I was not in the right mind; I don't think any of us really were. And I didn't care about the dangers, I didn't care about, what could happen to me...I didn't care...because he wouldn't have cared would he?

No...he never cared...he would say to damn the rules, and damn the dangers. Thats what he did...every day...thats who he was.

I rushed forward, hooking my arms under Diana just as her legs gave out beneath her. As I felt my arms strain against the weight of her armor, and collapsing body, and for a few moments I cried out her name, a sharp yell that echoed across the hollowed out shell of the javelin. "Diana!" I feared we'd both tumble to the floor, only to soon find Steel and Green Arrows arms assisting me in raising her, and allowing her to topple into a seat.

Her hair, a sheen of black tresses now fell haphazardly across her face, wet streaks of tears making some strands cling to her cheeks.

I kneeled in front of her, keeping us at eye level.

Before I could say anything her hands lashed out, rushing forward and wrapping around my biceps with a viselike strength I knew could become downright bone crushing in seconds if she lost control of herself.

But I didn't care. I didn't care about my arms, my bones, the bruises that would be there tomorrow, the tingling numbness in my fingers as her grip cut off the blood flow to my extremities.

"Shayera..." She said, trembling as she looked into my eyes, arms shaking even as they held my own. "Shayera..." She repeated, heavy, erratic breathing breaking into sobs that clogged my own throat with emotion and made my own sobs threaten to break through whatever numb haze had settled over my mind.

The Amazonian fell forward, her head falling onto my shoulder as she cried, my own tears coming unbidden as her voice reached me, her own broken voice echoing my earlier thoughts. "Its not him...its not him..."

The pain, the grief, the sadness, this feeling of utter helplessness...this is what death was...this is what the _Heldig En _ of Thanagar had been spared. And perhaps, they were weaker for it. But this was something Thanagarians should never have relished in. And it was something I now _coveted_ for myself.

How could they-how could I- have ever called comrades friends, called them family? Brothers and sisters in arms? My people had never known the true meaning of the words. Only how to pronounce them. Never in Thanagar had I felt this for a lost friend...never had I felt such utter pain.

This sharp, stabbing sensation through the chest, as though someone had jabbed a spike through my chest cavity and now twisted it with a sick satisfaction, reveling in the knowledge that...There was _nothing_ that I could do.

"Shayera..." Diana continued to repeat, wanting to know what she could ask, just as I wanted to know, what I could possibly answer her. Her, who's voice dripped with so much pain, such utter anguish...she searched for hope...searched for someone to tell her it was all a lie...a myth...a dream...some falsehood, from which she could awake and have Batman...alive, maintaining his silent vigil over Gotham in the night...

But what could I say? What...in this galaxy could I possibly say—other than...

"I'm sorry."

XXXXXXXXX

Shayera's thoughts, I hope, can portray the shock of the moment, along with the initial reaction of disbelief and denial.

Either way hope you all enjoyed it read and review please.


	3. Green Lantern

Yo, here I am again. Sorry for the relatively long wait.

John Stewart, I think, is the most difficult of the JL members to tie emotionally to the batman, and so is the most difficult to write. The others I think, will be much more emotionally "rich" So I hope you can enjoy it for what its worth, until the next instalation.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Another mission accomplished!"

Wally's voice was cheerful, echoing through the Javelin, he, Superman, J'hon and I had taken for this little excursion into the Ruby eye nebula. Deep space transmissions and images had given us reason to believe that either Gordanian's, or Thanagarian's were in the area. So close to earth, we couldn't leave it unchecked, and given the dangers of the mission no less than four of the founding members were sent.

Diana had wanted to come as well, but regulations dictated that at all times, unless on an Omega level alert, at least one level five Meta was to be on call. And though Shayera had also wanted to come, she knew better than to demand such, knowing that we would never allow it, due to her emotional attachment to this mission.

And Batman...well...unless they came to this planet he could care less over what sector of space they were terrorizing.

Before anything could be said in response a glass with ice and whiskey was found in one of my hands, it having been jerked free of its place on the control console by a red blur, same as he did to the other two passengers in the javelin.

I switched on the auto-pilot, swiveling around in my chair to find Clark and J'hon with similar glasses, and though J'hon stared at the beverage as though it were some new kind of creature to dissect, Clark held a surprised, but nonetheless exuberant smile as he stared down at the alcohol.

Holding up the golden liquid to eye level I turned a scrupulous eye onto the scarlet speedster. "How the hell did you even get this in here? You know the regulations on alcohol on the job."

Wally shrugged with that familiar bright grin of his. "Bats needs to lighten up on the rules. Besides, after all the trouble it was to sneak this in, we are drinking at least once." He answered simply with a minor uplift of his shoulders before he set the bottle down in the compartment he'd commandeered for it. A compartment normally reserved for parachutes...

"You know he's gonna wring your neck if he finds out about this?" I said but couldn't help but smirk. Missions with the old group were few and far between since the league expanded, and it felt good to celebrate our impromptu "reunion" even if Bats would chew us out once he found out Wally had brought alcohol onto the ship, honestly that guy found out everything. I wouldn't be surprised if he knew what our shoe sizes are.

"Oh I think we can handle it." Clark said as he brought the glass close to his nose, sniffing the whiskey.

"Though I would like to partake in this...ritual." J'hon began uncertainly. "I am afraid I have never consumed this liquid. I am uncertain how it may affect my physiology."

"What!" Wally said, with abstract horror. "You've never had a drink while you've been on earth J'hon?"

In response, the Martian shook his head. "Forgive me...perhaps though if I could see the ingredient-"

Before he could say anything more Flash had opened the compartment, grabbed the bottle, zoomed across the limited space and held the nutritional facts section of the tag in front of him to read.

Jhon extended his hand and took the bottle. Pupiless eyes scanned over the letters, taking in the new knowledge with that similar compartmentalization he had done with so many of his medical texts.

There was a silence among us for several seconds, both Clark and I, waited patiently as J'hon gave his verdict, while Wally on the other hand seemed to be shaking in his boots with anticipation, obviously dismayed at the prospect of not having a full four man toast.

Finally J'hon spoke, looking up at Wally's features, which seemed to somehow manage a perfect blend between mimicking a sniffling child and one who was just told he'd be going to Disneyland.

"I do not believe any of the ingredients here will do me harm."

"Sweet!" Was Wally's somewhat disembodied voice as he zipped across the room again, bottle in hand and back in its compartment.

This was all in a fraction of a second though, and I barely caught the movement, only knowing it had happened by his blurred afterimages before he was seated once again in his chair, cup in hand.

Raising the glass he held it out to the other three. "To the team!"

Clark was next, clinking the glasses together. "To future missions together."

"To ratting your ass out when we get back." I said, smirking at Wally's cringing face. Obviously the prospect of having to face an angry Batman isn't something he relished.

J'hon was the last, clinking his glass against ours. "To the Justice League."

With our respective pieces said we all took one solid gulp, draining our glasses from their contents.

My eyes watered a bit from the searing burn that trailed down my throat, it was a good pain, and the warmth that rose from my stomach as the liquid finally made its way down my esophagus.

A muffled coughing brought my eyes to J'hon, no doubt being his first drink the Martian didn't expect something quite so strong.

"Ahh damn." I said, extending a bright green hand from my power ring and patting the Martian on the back. "Sorry for the lack of warning J'hon. Its got a bit of a kick."

The Martian cleared his throat, straightening in his seat. "Ahem...thank you." He said swallowing, orange eyes glowing all the more. I wondered if thats how martians teared up.

The churning sound of a bottle being held up brought everyone's eyes back to Wally, smiling as he held the bottle once again. " 'Nother round?" He questioned before I shook my head.

"No thanks." I said as I set the glass down and turned back to the control console. "We're already approaching the watchtower we'll be there in a few hours"

"And if Batman's on board he'll probably _smell_ the whiskey before we've even docked." Clark finished with an amused upturn of his lips, swiveling around on his own chair.

I heard Wally moan in disappointment and the bottle clattered loudly as it was tossed back in its compartment.

Ignoring it, I switched the communications relay online "This is Green Lantern to Watchtower."

There was static on the other end, and for a moment I wondered if we were still out of signal range before the crackle of static alerted me to their reply. "John?"

It was Shayera's voice. It took me only a second to realize that, but it didnt even take me that long to also realize that something was wrong. Her voice, it was strained. Laced with pain and grief.

"Shayera?" I found myself asking before the others, whom had no doubt detected the same things I had. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"J-John...I...I..."

"Death."

Clark's, Wally's and my own eyes snapped back around at J'hon at the sound of his own voice, sitting on his chair, ramrod straight, eyes glowing bright orange. "Someone has died...their surface thoughts...it echoes with loss-"

There was this pause, it couldn't have been for more than a second or so, but in that pause I saw, for probably the first time a look on J'hon's face that could have held the physical manifestation of horrified realization.

The martian looked to Superman, and the Man of steel leaned forward in his chair with urgency. "J'hon? Who was it? Was it Kara!?" He questioned at last, eyes wide with anxiety and fear at the thought of his younger cousin dead.

Others came to my mind, increasing my own anxiety as J'hon shook his head. Green Arrow, Captain Atom, Black Canary, Plastic man, even for a single moment, Diana, none came even close to preparing me for the broken, pain filled answer answer that crackled through the com link as it came through Shayera's lips.

"It...Batman....Batman's dead."

My mouth fell open wide and only an incredulous disbelieving _"Batman!" _Escaped my lips.

There was no answer to my query, only the crackle of static.

My question repeated itself in my own mind, just as incredulous, just as disbelieving.

_'Batman!?'_

It couldn't be...this had to be some kind of mistake some...some kind of joke. I mean...Batman?

The man was...the man was...he was...

I paused, a dawning realization to end my thoughts.

The man...was just that...a man.

He was human, mortal, relying on nothing but his own skills and wits to overcome opponents that many of us with our gifts would easily have fallen to if we even had half his limitations.

A red hand blurred on the and for probably the first time since I had known him, I heard genuine anger in Wally's voice. As I looked to his face he seemed more than just shocked, or angry, he seemed genuinely...outraged; insulted even. "Hey Shay-if this is some kind of joke this ain't funny!"

Now Shayera's own distressed voice screeched over the transmitter, insulted and hurt over the insinuation. "I wouldn't joke about this you stupid fuck!"

Flash's features twisted beneath his mask, and his fist now shook as he clenched it tight. "Well you got somebody tellin' you some kind of bull-"

Before anymore could be said I switched off the communication relay, swiveling in my chair and standing up before I pressed my hand to Flash's chest pushing him back away from the com link. "You need to calm down!" I said in that familiar, stern tone that Wally always backed down with.

But not this time apparently, a fury I had never before witnessed gripped the scarlet speedster, and he shook his head with an angry air. "Nah GL I mean; Did you hear her!?" He said glaring at the communications console before he began pacing back and fourth like a caged animal now that I blocked his way. "What the hell is she-I mean-Did you hear her!?" He questioned again, his voice now reaching a pitch, somewhere between anger and tears.

"Yea I heard her." I said before shoving him down onto a seat. "Sit down. Take a deep breath now." I said before reaching over to the small refrigerated compartment which held the rations and water for longterm missions.

Grabbing one of the water bottles I handed it to Flash, one of my hands resting on his shoulder as he took the offering before drinking, shaking his head.

"Nah I mean.." The scarlet speedster spoke, shaking his head. Unknowingly mimicking my own earlier thoughts. "Its...its Bats GL...he cant...there's...just no way man. He's supposed to be there when we get back ya know? He's supposed to be tearing my head off for the drinks!!!" He was openly yelling at this point I thought for a moment he would try to stand and reach the com console again, and different plans for subduing the younger male flashed before my mind.

But it was all for nothing though, before long all his energy, which had always appeared to be so abundant and endless, seemed to drain out of him.

I didn't say anything. Mainly because I couldn't. I didn't know what to say. His sentiments mimicked my own, his confusion a mirror image to what raced through my own mind.

"Maybe Grod's messing with the team again." Wally put forward. "Maybe-maybe...some of the magicians, Circe or something-"

The hope, however false I knew it to be, wormed its way within me, giving me a glimmer of faith that Batman was alive, that this was all some kind of deception, some trick.

However that hope was smothered, brutally, killed before it could take root by none other than our own teammate, who's voice seemed to echo across the small, cramped quarters of the Javelin.

"No...there is no falsity here...I...I can no longer sense Batman..." A pause, heavy and thick, as if sound and air had simply been sucked out of this enclosed space. "Anywhere."

That last word, was like a hammer stroke upon an anvil. It fell hard, and the impact it made rang in our ears, felt as though it had shattered through whatever protected us from its truth and nothing could replace it. Not the green energy from my Ring, not Kryptonian invulnerability, nothing.

It left us exposed, weakened, vulnerable...

Human...

And I suddenly felt the full weight of this event fall over me, and a crushing weight fell over my chest, knocking the wind out of me. I straightened.

Batman...

My eyes turned to Clark, whom was leaning heavily over his chair, face buried in his hands. Allowing me to only imagine the lost look that must haunt his gaze.

I swallowed, my legs carrying me back to the pilots chair before I flipped the com back on. The words left my lips, numb and automatic, as though I myself were on auto-pilot. "Green Lantern to Watchtower...please confirm landing bay readiness for our Arrival, ETA two-hundred and seven minutes."

Static was our answer, before, now, Green Arrow's voice answered us. "Confirmed Green Lantern. See you then."

I switched off the com, allowing a silence to descend on us.

I held the control yoke knowing I didn't have to since the auto-pilot was still on, but I could neither find something else to do, just as I couldn't trust myself enough at this point to switch the auto-pilot off and drive myself.

The silence between us was broken abruptly by the sound of the airlock compartment being opened and swiftly slammed shut. I turned my gaze, finding Flash about to press the Airlock to open up, and within the sealed chamber I saw that bottle of Whiskey he had gone to great lengths to procure for us.

He didn't look at any of us before pressing the button, letting the gold liquid escape into the vast nothingness of space.

He didn't say anything. Gave...no explanation. Truth is...he didn't need to. The words came to each of us

_He_ wouldn't have wanted that bottle in here...

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As my proofreader said, John's chapter was meant to convey more the feeling someone has when they're sucker punched. Stewart, is a marine, and so by proxy he should know how to deal with the loss of a comrade, in a more detached manner. So by no means as much of a tear jerker as the last chapter with Shayera, I find it still is as "powerful" as the situation would allow.

Either way, I hope you enjoy it, and hope to have the next chapter up by Friday. I think the martian will be very very interesting to portray. Anyway read and review please.


	4. Martian Manhunter

Here's the next instalment, hope you enjoyed it

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The recent hours seem as though they have been mere seconds, events are distorted, distant. As though someone had taken control of my physical form until my psyche could once again take control of this bodily vessel.

I am in the watchtower's morgue, a room that has barely been used since the League expanded. I sit behind the medical desk, cast in the dim, bleak shade of deep space with no lights but the auxiliary safety lights along the edges of the wall, casting orange shadows across the room.

I know I have been sitting here a long time, I am uncertain of just how long though. It could have been hours as easily as it could have been days. That is one advantage of Martian physiology in comparison to a humans. I do not need as much sleep to preserve the functionality of my mind, nor do I require as much sustenance to maintain my body in its recommended parameters of nutrition.

But that's something you'd have been familiar with is it not? Being at a disadvantage in comparison to both friend and enemy alike

In this world of humans, admittedly primitive primates, people that had no knowledge on how to conceal their thoughts, on how to shield themselves being a telepath was...disorienting, often times physically painful.

I had listened to them, all of them, even as I saved their lives, their thoughts always held some form of fear, some worse than others, though some were genuine gratitude, regardless of my, to them, strange features.

But always they made me feel as what I was. Alien.

Even you did this. But you were different from them, you held no bigotry or hatred for me, no fear. Merely caution, a wariness that you used to approach all situations. As Superman had said when we first met.

_'Don't take it personally Jhon, he doesn't trust anyone.' _

Indeed. You trusted none of us upon the beginning, and when you offered your assistance, as a temporary member, I knew that it was solely for the purpose of keeping a closer eye on us. Even one such as you could not hide his thoughts completely from me.

During the beginning, you were veiled, guarded, keeping all of us at arm's length, treating us as mere acquaintances, people you fought with, nothing more.

In many battles that we fought together, you stood aside, the others believed it was because of your human limitations, your lack of the so called "Powers"

But I knew different, I could hear small bits of your thoughts even as you tried to shield them, and I tried to block them out. You watched us, observed our limits, calculating how you could exploit them in case you ever needed to do so.

This...dismayed me. On mars this sort of mistrust, this...wariness of our fellow martian was unheard of, And even mistrust of other species did not come easily to us. Something the Parasites had readily exploited of our people.

How could one fight alongside those he would readily regard as enemies? How could he look them in the eye while he was actively contemplating the most effective way to bring them down?

I did not understand for a long time, and often times, even today, I feel as if I may never fully comprehend it.

It took the event with Toyman, and Superman's apparent death to make me realize that I had misjudge you...or at least, misjudged your thoughts.

When Kal-El appeared to have died, there was grief in your mind, you mourned when you thought he had been destroyed by the beam of light.

You cared for him, despite the fact that you held the emerald green stone that could kill him on your person at all times.

You cared for us, but did not trust us. You would protect us, but were more than willing to kill us.

You would fight for us....but would never allow us to fight for you.

Often times when we fought alongside one another, or managed the computers along the observatory deck of the watchtowers I felt as though, you, not I, were perhaps the wisest of us. The one most trustworthy.

Perhaps, in that, my judgment was clouded, knowing that you had seen my memories when I rescued you. Knowing that you knew my secret and that you had kept it to yourself without my needing to ask as I'd hoped you would.

Or perhaps you simply were the most genuinely trustworthy.

As I sit here, staring at the autopsy report with hazed orange eyes I cannot help but admit...that it was a strange, dichotomous life you led.

You shrouded yourself in darkness, in shadow. Encasing yourself in misery and sorrow, shying away from any light, any enjoyment you might find, anything that may weaken that armor of blackness within you.

But, whereas you encased yourself in your misery...all those you touched...all those you came in contact with can only say they are made better individuals because of you.

You helped Shayera through her grief, you...attempted to help John place things into perspective with her.

Though it may not have been intentional, even Flash learned from you, more patient, tactical. He knows now that he cannot defeat everyone on his own.

Kal-El and Diana...you have helped them both...in more ways than even I know.

And as for myself...in my language, there are few ways to say the word friend, we regarded each other as brothers and sisters. Son's and daughters of the Goddess of creation Fiena. But we had one word '**_vriendin'. _**That is our word for friend.

And if I could tell you now, I would.

I am honored to be able to call you a friend...'My' friend!

I may not have understood you. I may not have known you as well as others such as Kal-El, or your Bat-clan. But you were my friend, and should someone ask, I will say so without hesitation.

I look down upon the autopsy report once again. And suddenly, its not enough evidence for me. Neither is the black, hollow armor and cowl that had been placed on a stand in the corner, as though in reverence.

It is merely armor. Titanium tri-weave fibers with kevlar plates and light absorbing spray paint. Efficient, powerful, perhaps even artistic in a way. But without the man it is merely just that...armor. It needs you to make it the fearsome terror of the Gotham night.

I stand from the desk, autopsy report forgotten on its surface and march across the room, to the several storage containers. One of which holds your body.

My hand reaches out, opening the compartment before roughly yanking out the sliding slab where your body rests.

Your skin is pale. A grayish hue lined with blue veins and blue tinged lips, you are thinner, no doubt due to the organs we have removed, the cross shaped scar over your chest and abdomen can attest to that.

There is a tear in your lower left side, where Killer crock had bitten you, the wound that caused your death.

This is you...it is your face...your body.

But...just the same as it is you...it is still not you.

My final memory of you, of the Batman. Will not be of a human, cold and decomposing in this freezer, unmoving and eyes closed in slumber. No...you are stronger than that...better. And looking upon you now, like this, in this state; I now feel as though I do you a disservice. A disgrace to the Batman I remember.

I remember you as Gotham's Knight, its protector. A warrior of the Justice league. A brother in arms.

A _vriendin._

I slide the drawer back into the freezer, and turn my eyes to your armor. It, once lacking in my view, appears now to do a better service to your memory than originally anticipated.

I march forward, reaching out, and clasping the black cowl in my hands and I can almost feel the light drain away from this room as I do. But I feel no fear, it is not cold, or foreboding...merely...darker.

This...this is how you would wish us to remember you I think.

As the hero that you were, not the human that has died.

I stare into the empty lenses of your cowl, feeling the inky blackness close in around me, as the light was sapped out of the room, as the tendrils of shadow come in closer.

I will do this Batman, as best I can...I shall seek to honor your memory.

The Memory of The Batman.

The door to the mortuary hissed open, allowing light, blinding in its intensity to blanket the room. All but this corner I stand in, where your armor rests. Even now the shadows still cling to you.

A technician entered, and I placed your cowl back down upon its resting place, listening to the young woman gasp as her eyes caught sight of my own glowing ones within this darkness.

I turned once the armor piece was safely on its stand, unaware of the blackness that obscured me, clung to me just as they did to you. But I was aware of the woman's sudden fear, her terror before I stepped forward, into the light, away from the darkness.

"Yes Sarah?" I questioned, reading her name tag.

"Uh-I-umm." She paused, swallowing thickly before she visibly composed herself. "The medical examiner will be here soon. To prep the body for transport."

I nodded. "Very well." I hesitated in my next second, but it was only for a moment. "Please ensure that...he is treated well."

She nodded, her eyes taking on a sympathetic light. "Of course sir."

With a nod, I swept past her, leaving the room.

But though I left the physical shadows behind me, you my _vriendin _shall remain with me in my memories. And through my actions in the future, I hope to honor those memories to the best of my ability.

It is all I can do now. It is...the only expectation of yours right now that remains. That I know I can uphold, and meet. Always.

XXXXXXXXX

Well here ya go, hope you all enjoy it. Next update will be some time next week, probably thursday.

Also, to those of you who keep putting, Update soon. There's kinda no point to doing that. I mean. I'm telling exactly when I'm updating, there's no need to tell me to "update soon." infact its kinda anoying given the fact that I'm even telling you when the next update is coming and that I've stuck to those self imposed deadlines so far.

And also Isis, I asked like 3 different grammar Nazi's. how the hell you spell that name, all three gave me different versions. So I went with the one I was more comfortable with. Since I've already spelled the martians name J'hon J'honz in this fic I'll keep it like that but for any next JL fics I do I'll change it, thanks


	5. Flash

Here's the next chap of Knightfall hope its too your liking

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I'm laying on my bed, blankly staring up at the ceiling. Its dull, cream color doing nothing to distract me from my thoughts.

I went to bed around eleven las night. But I didnt fall asleep...I'm not sure if I'll ever sleep again after this...

I mean...its Bats...ya know? How the hell could he of all people have died?

Half the time I forgot he didnt even have powers. He was always so precise, so perfect in everything he did.

He never screwed up. Never missed a clue. Never let the team down.

Not like me...

I'm the let down, the kid, the dissapointment.

Thats what I allways saw in his features whenever he looked at me...

Dissapointment.

And that's twhy, his oppinion, more than anyone else's mattered to me the most.

Because somehow, if I could gain his aproval: _His!_ Not Superman's, not GL's, _his_ then that meant I was good enough...strong enough.

To me, his aproval, the approval of the lone, non meta in the original team, was the sole evidence I needed to tell me I was good enough to be a league member.

When Shayera told us he died over the Javelin Com. Channel...I...I just couldnt believe it. I truly thought that she was lying, or that someone was lying to her.

How could he of all people have....just....just died?

I was angry at the very notion. Angry at the thought that they were considering this for a moment. Buying into that load of crap. Angry at the thought...

that it could be true...

That he had died before I could gain the approval I coveted so much. That he had died before I could tell him just how much that oppinion of his mattered to me.

Thats the problem with death and those left behind....We realize just how much was left unsaid...how much left undone.

The blaring of the alarm clock startled me so much I nearly jumped; before I realized what it was.

Looking up to the bright red lights that made up the digits I saw it read 8 AM. My wake up call.

I hadnt slept a wink. I'm not even sure if I tried to close my eyes once last night.

For those who know me, they know I'm not an early riser, not in the least.

But today was different wasn't it...It was his funeral today.

I stood up from the bed, listening to the metal springs creak and groan with the shift in weight.

I stretched sore muscles listening to various bones pop from hours of lack of movement.

I could be ready in minutes, seconds even. But I didnt. I took my time. It didnt seem right: cheapening this preparation time, this...ritual. He deserved these hours of my time. More than that even. But this was all I could give of myself now. Offer to him before...before he is well and truly gone.

I shed the different articles of clothing, stepping into the shower once I did.

I turned on the water. Adjusting the temperature until it was hot, almost burning. I felt the rapid beats of water rain down on my back and shoulders, loosening tightly coiled muscles.

For several minutes I stood there, letting the watter beat down against my back and watching it trail down the drain.

How many times had I done this before? Only that the water was tinged with a dark trail of red as I washed off recent injuries and new scars.

He'd fought in those battles with me...he had fought and escaped without a scratch several times while I was thrown to the medical ward once I got back.

I could never compare to him...never measure up. He even towered over Supes sometimes.

And now...he was dead.

For a moment I felt worry...

No...not worry...fear.

I feared for the league.

What would happen without him? He financed us. He led us into battle. We often owed our victories to his brains and level headedness.

What would we do next time when an enemy needed a weakness to be found? Or a bomb to be difused? Or a killer to be tracked? Or a puzzle to be solved?

I didnt know.

And...Ironically...I realized that six of the worlds most powerful meta's relied the most on the single human amongst them.

Or was it just me? Was I the one that relied on him? That was failing to measure up again?

Another dissapointment eh? I could swear I feel the familiar burn of your glare on the back of my neck..

I can see your face too...all hardened lines etched into a marble carved scowl as you growl at me "Stop whining!"

I stepped out of the shower, drying myself with an old, clean towel before I marched out of the steam filled bathroom.

I made my way across my apartment, towards the closet where I reached for the plastic covering which shielded an old suit I hadn't worn in years

I took it from its place, before spreading it out on the bed and unzipping it, finding the black material inside.

I pulled it out, airing it for a moment before I began the process of putting on the entire ensemble.

I had always, whenever I was on a mission on my own, and found myself in a bind, I'd ask myself:

_"What would bats do?"_

But I think it would be hard to ask that here...now...

Even if I could, I don't think any answer would come.

But still...what would you do? I mean if one of us had died instead of you?

Heh, probably just go brood in that cave of yours right? Here I am getting ready to go to your funeral and you probably wouldn't even go to mine. Heh. Asshole.

I glance behind me almost on instinct to make sure you don't sneak up on me as you always do whenever I say or think something bad about you.

I regret the action almost immediately.

There wont be anymore surprise sneak ups anymore will there? No more bat glares. No more reprimands. No more unquestionable rules.

No more...

I throw the jacket onto the bed, march over to the nearby recliner and collapse, a hand pressing against my forehead and a shuddering breath escaped me.

Even though there was no one here I still tried to fight the tears that glistened my eyes. Maybe it was out of habit. Maybe it was because I know you'd be disappointed if I did cry.

Look at me...I've saved the world a dozen times over, taken hits that would keep me on the hospital bed for days. Broken bones, torn muscles, sprained joints.

And here I'm sitting in my apartment crying like a little kid.

You wouldn't be doing this would you? Nah...you wouldn't.

Here I am moping, instead of getting ready. The service was at ten. And here I am at nine and I'm not even fully dressed.

I stand up from the chair, wiping my eyes before I step forward to the jacket once again, donning it before I move to put on my socks and shoes.

I stand up, marching over to the mirror. I straighten my tie, press the cotton suit, tug it down.

I stare at myself in the mirror, seeing myself in this monkey suit was surreal. But the reason for it was even more surreal.

I sighed, walking over towards the watchtower communicator on my nightstand. He would have had a fit if he ever saw that there.

I turned on the com link, ready to tell whoever was on station to activate the teleporter and beam me up to beam me back down to Gotham's Wayne Manor.

As I pressed the button, and the crackle of static filtered through the room, I was about to speak when the whole building shook, toppling me over with a startled cry, and knocking the communicator out of my hand. A nearby lamp teetered and tottered before it finally toppled over, smacking me across the temple.

"Ow! Sonova..."

I paused mid sentence as I began to stand, looking up out the window to see a black plume of smoke rising from down the street.

I jerked to my feet, rushing to the window to see one of the nearby residential buildings completely aflame, the entire lower level consumed with quickly rising fires.

I moved with speed, rushing to get rid of the jacket and clothes, moving towards one of the many rings that concealed my suit.

As I tossed clothing onto my bed in a hurry my eyes soon darted to the clock and forze.

9:45

The service was in fifteen minutes. No way I could shut off a fire and save the civilians in fifteen minutes.

For the briefest of instants the thought to ignore the problem crossed my mind. To simply leave, and let the authorities handle it, maybe call in some other team.

But whatever the hell got into me I threw away with a ferocity and disgust that would have done Bats proud.

It didnt take another second, another instant, I donned my scarlet uniform and mask, the suit and its articles laying haphazardly across the bed.

If I skipped out on this, if I left, if 1 person died because I just didnt 'feel' like doing my duty. _Then_ I would be a disappointment. _Then_ I would never be worthy of being in the league. _Then_ I would never be able to gain your approval.

I don't have to ask myself what you would do here. Because I _know_ what you would do. What you'd expect others to do.

You'd get up and keep fighting, you'd live with the loss, fight through it. You'd push yourself harder, make yourself stronger faster, so that next time...next time you'll be there for your fellow league member. And a trip to the morgue would be instead a trip to the medical ward.

That's what you would do.

So that's what I'm gonna do.

I promise...I wont be the disappointment again. Never again.

I rush out from my window, zooming past the cars, people and buildings, rushing towards the screams and the flames.

This is what you would do Bats...so this is what I'm gonna do.

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Well flash was meant to be more like the little brother that just lost the elder. I hope I was able to portray it well enough. This chap was shorter than some of the others, but I hope it has just as much significance.

Either way, I hope you enjoyed it, read and review please, next up is Clark, his chapter should be up by next saturday the latest. Thanks


	6. Clark Kent

Well here's the next chapter hope you all enjoy it.

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Its raining here today. Crisp, cold droplets of water bearing down on Gotham, embracing it in a miserable icy grip.

I read the name, carved into the gravestone like a fine series of scars. That name was chizzled in by a knife that tore its way through the very heart of the league.

Bruce Wayne.

No...not Bruce Wayne...Batman.

This isn't Clark Kent staring at the grave of Bruce Wayne. This is Superman standing over the grave of Batman.

I pull away my glasses, look onto the grave again. I try to think of something to say but my mind comes up with a complete blank. Nothing comes to me. Nothing but platitudes and grievances which I know you'd only be angry at. Growling and glaring, telling me to pull myself together and "get the hell over it"

So...I settled for the one thing I knew you'd always listen to.

A progress report.

"Everything you prepared is going off like clockwork just so you know." I said, digging my hands deep into the brown coat I wore today.

"Dr. Leslie made out the cause of death to have been injuries from a bear attack while you were away in your summer home in Montana. Filed the death certificate. Proper papers for your body's transportation have been forged and the money you had is being transferred according to your specifications."

I paused. Swallowing as I felt my jaw twitch with uncertainty before I pressed on and continued.

"Richard, took on the cowl yesterday from what I hear..." I smiled, though, I don't think anyone would have seen any humor in it.

"22 injury reports and three in psychiatric care for post traumatic stress syndrome. You would have been proud." I said jokingly, trying to alleviate my tension as I spoke to a slab of cold granite.

The humor fell flat, even to me, and I visibly felt my face falling, a frown replacing the weak smile I had before. "But...to tell you the truth...I don't think he'll keep it up for much longer"

The rain was falling harder now, and a harsh, biting wind, howled through Gotham city's graveyard, a groaning moan amongst the dead, that unsettled the trees, whipping the leaves on the branches in a violent orchestra.

I pulled my coat tighter around me, more out of habit than any real cold. I don't know why I thought that about Dick. I've seen him in action before. He's as good as any other non powered league member. If not better. There's no reason why he wouldn't be able to continue.

I try to think back on it. To recall the limited amount of interaction we could share within the service at the funeral home and eventual burial. Maybe it was something there that I had seen that brought this opinion to me.

But it was all a haze really. The service, the drive here, the words others spoke of you. It was all hollowed out. Whispers of dust and echoed voices. Their words, meaningless because they all spoke of a man they barely even knew

We knew you. Both sides of you. And without knowing both sides...even the best speech crafter in the world, would find his words, meaningless in our eyes.

Or was that just me? Was I the one that simply couldn't remember?

Even if I could...I don't think it'd reveal anything about Dick and this little quirk thought of mine. That he may not continue being the Bat for long.

It truth...it may just be wishful thinking on my part. You were always the Bat. And to see someone else in that suit...its...its not right. Its not wrong...but its just not right.

Only you could ever be The batman. The Dark Knight of Gotham. In my eyes at least.

Only you, could wield the power and risk that titled brandished you with, with such precision, poise and skill.

Only you...and no matter how well trained, or how well educated Dick was, even by you...he may never be your replacement. At least...not in my eyes.

I feel the sting of moisture behind my eyes and I rub my digits over them, banishing the wetness with a sharp intake of breath, swallowing thickly.

Somewhere...I realize that...I haven't cried. Not once since I heard of your death I haven't shed a tear I'd had to hide them all behind masks.

Masks...we live behind these things; People like us I mean.

I had to hide behind one when I addressed the League, to keep the image of the "infallible_ leader_" of the Justice League intact. Had to hide behind one as Superman, having to tell Alfred that the young man he considered his own was now dead...

Alfred...I don't think I ever saw that man even bat an eyelash with surprise.

But today...today I saw that man cry. He didn't hide his tears...in fact...he showed them to the world with no shame. From a certain point of view, he may have even been, in a way, proud to show that he was close enough to the Wayne patriarch that he could weep over him with tears born of love and sincerity, rather than mere political appearances as so many other of Gotham's elite had done.

For one last time I'd had to hide today again...right here at your funeral no less...I'd had to hide behind one...final mask as Clark Kent, the Reporter who had no connection to Bruce Wayne whatsoever, and certainly no reason to cry over him.

We had, officially, no history, except a few random interviews, mainly because you had been flirting with Lois at the time.

The thought drew a bark of laughter from me, sharp. And it seeded a small, frail bubble of humor in my chest. "Man. I had wanted to wring your neck so bad back then." I said to the chilled night air, over the haze of the downpour. "So arrogant and full of yourself. You definitely know how to play the part of the ass didn't you."

The flat gravestone didn't answer, leaving me in dreaded silence.

"You'd fool everyone with that grin, and_ suave_ attitude of yours. Glass of ginger-ale in your hand, passing it off as scotch. Laughing and winking like you owned the place. Half the time you actually did."

The smile on my face was still there, but it was turning frail, weakening with each thought that passed my mind. A slow creeping realization crawling up my legs, coiling around my heart, smothering it with the knowledge my mind already knew.

There will be no more of these memories, no more of these events to categorize and keep in the vaults of my mind. No more of these little markers with which to remember our friendship and whatever bond of comrades or brothers we may have once shared.

No more...

The tears that had previously been locked safely away within my eyes glistened forward, slowly but surely plowing their way through until my eyes burned with the salty moisture.

I can feel my lips trembling, and I draw in a shuddering breath and fresh tears were soon mixing with the rainwater that trailed down my face.

"You stupid bastard." I say between shuddering breaths, my chest and shoulders heaving with each sharp gasp.

The pain clenched my chest like a vice, almost physically crippling in its intensity. My shoulders hunch forward and my head falls, allowing the heavy rain to pelt the back of my head and neck driving its cold talons deep into my bones.

I tried to hold back the tears, to stave the flow. To rein in my emotions as I was so used to doing and had been doing all day. But I couldn't.

For all my strength for all my power I couldn't stop these tears from coming, couldn't stop this horrible gut wrenching feeling that seemed to choke the air in my throat and clog my lungs in my chest.

Everything hurt now. As though my Kryptonian invulnerability had simply abandoned me to the festering pack of wolves that was my grief, and would gnaw on the flesh off of my very bones.

"You stupid bastard." I vaguely felt myself repeating amidst the hiss and drum of the rain.

Abruptly, the rain stopped, and the deafening hiss was instantly replaced by a drumming pit pat pit pat of water striking the plastic of an umbrella. The cold water cut off, leaving only the chilling wind to hammer against me.

I turn slowly, uncertain of who is there but already having some small idea already.

"Master Kent." Came the familiar, crisp voice of Alfred Pennyworth as my eyes met his. Finding the familiar hazel brown of his eyes, the thinly groomed mustache and familiar black tux. "Kryptonian physiology or not good sir. You will catch your death out here."

He spoke with a face, void of emotion. Completely stone like, as if the thin line of his lips, the languid look in his eyes and the calm mannerisms were carved into the very fabric of his persona.

For a moment his eyes took on a softer look, more understanding and slowly, the old butlers hand raised itself, and rested with reassuring firmness on my shoulder. He nodded slowly, and I saw once again, the visage of this...strong man, crack with sadness and glossed eyes. "I know." The British butler said staring straight into my eyes. "I will miss him too master Kent."

The words, the simple statement that I would miss him, was all that was needed for my hastilly regained composure to crumble away into nothingness.

Alfred stepped forward, embracing me in a one armed hug, the other hand still firmly grasping the umbrella.

I wondered over his composure now. How he could be so calm and poised. Because I know, for a fact, that he cared for Bruce. Loved him like a son, but his actions bespoke of his feelings and as much as I appreciated the strength of Alfred, the surety of _him_ at this point in time where everything seems to have simply turned on its ear with a harrowing intensity and nothing was certain anymore. Certainly not the certainty I previously had over Bruce's strength.

And it was with that harrowing thought that I realized why Alfred could remain like this. Could retain his strength and poise in the wake of this tragedy.

Because he was prepared for it.

For years, Alfred must have known the risks. Come to terms with the possibility that each night may be the very last he would see Bruce alive. He had raised Bruce. Seen his faults and his strengths for what they were. And knew the man better than he knew himself

And so he had been prepared...braced himself for the ever present possibility of the man's death.

Whereas I-we of the Justice League had not.

"I will miss him too." The butler repeated. with a gentle hand on my back "I will miss him too."

I took in a shuddering breath before pulling away, staring down at the older man whom took a step back. Apparently, already knowing the privacy I required for this despite his hesitance to leave me standing in the rain.

I turned around, now to face the grave once again. Finding your name still firmly carved into the stone.

I knelt, one hand coming to rest on the top of the gravestone.

I was silent for a long time, trying to think of something to say, some meaningful, final goodbye. But my mind came up with nothing. For years words have been coming to me. Either to spur the league on with a speech, or as the reporter Clark Kent writing an article. But now, here. Where it was more important I could come up with nothing.

Soon, I gave up on trying to think of my goodbye. Because this was not Superman adressing the League, or even Batman. And this was not Clark Kent writing an article for the Planet.

"I'll do my best Bruce..." I pause. Looking up to the night sky, an inky black pitch of rainclouds that blot out the light of the moon.

"But whatever happens...Please don't think less of me." I said, forcing the words through my cloged voicebox before leaning forward and kissing the top of the gravestone before I stood and turned. Leaving the grave of Bruce Wayne.

The Grave of Batman

The Grave of a friend.

The grave of my Brother in all but name.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sorry for the delay. I was dragged away from my computer unexpectedly for several days.


	7. Diana

The rain beat harshly against my face and skin, sheets of cold draping over me. A numb feeling settling over my body with the drop in temperature.

Or maybe it wasn't the cold...maybe it was just me.

This numbness was certainly a welcome sensation in comparison to the pain Hera knows has seemingly sunk into the marrow of my bones since....since I found him three days ago.

A mass was in my throat, and I found it difficult to breathe before I ruthlessly pushed it down with a shake of my head.

I peered down to the city below, a bubbling rage rising from my stomach and spreading through my chest like the flames of the accursed Hades.

This was the city he had protected. The city that meant so much to him. The city that had killed him...

The rain poured harder now, the deafening hiss drowning out all other sounds, so that nothing else could reach me. And the great god Zeus's fury lit up the night sky like a flare of blinding white.

Thunder rumbled through my chest, and shook my beating heart and lungs with such force it felt as if Zeus's terrible wrath would soon be brought down upon this entire city with the full, unbridled force I knew the great god to be capable of.

Part of me wanted such an event.

As terrible and horrifying as I knew the anger of the gods to be upon the just and unjust alike, I didn't care.

I wanted some kind of absolution. Something better and more meaningful than this _horrid_ mockery we had made of his death.

I wanted justice.

Hiding who he was, what he was from everyone. From his allies, from the public. Perhaps even to ourselves, if only to shy away from our own shame and guilt...it was sickening.

Bruce Wayne, foolish little playboy killed in a mountain hiking bear attack.

The thought alone made me want to scream in fury, to march up to Kal and the others that had thought up this scheme and _hurt_ them.

I wanted them to hurt. To feel as much pain as I felt whenever I brought my thoughts back to him.

In Themischyra, we honored our sisters when they died.

Either by the sword in great battles of old, such as the legendary Troy. Or whatever few had chosen to forsake the gift of immortality given to us by the gods due to either world weariness or more personal reasons we honored them equally, regardless of circumstance.

And when the ceremonies of passing were given those sisters lives were spoken of with pride in our voice, reiterating their accomplishments, talents and the personal influence they had over our lives for all to know.

Because those things were a part of who those sisters of ours were. And should be remembered as such.

But here...

I felt as if I would retch at the very thought of what we'd done here by comparison...

My anger spread through my chest again, rising up like a cauldron of heated steam, burning my insides and blurring my vision.

How dare they...

"That communicator of yours is meant to be kept on at all times Princess."

My breath hitched, eyes widening with a loud gasp and stiffening of my spine.

That voice...

I spun around and brought my gaze heavenward.

And there I found it. That familiar shadow of sheer black, looming like a monolith of pure obsidian over my head, long, dark cape caught in the high winds as two unnervingly white lenses peered into my eyes with the fierceness of the night predator he was named after.

His name came to the forefront of my mind, rushing to the head of any other thought or sentence I could scarcely begin to define in my lack of coherence. "Bru-"

But then I saw him, his true face. In a flash of white that tore through the night sky, that stung my eyes I saw the man that stood over me, clogging the words in my voice box with such force it was as if Zeus himself had robbed me of my ability to speak, in penance for the mistaken identity.

I could tell, even in the sudden absence of light, that those eyes were narrowed behind the shield that was the cowl.

No...Not Bruce...Richard. Richard Grayson.

I looked away, unable to meet that mask anymore, the fury that had ensnared me within its grip only moments ago having seemingly fled my body in all haste upon....this one's arrival.

I sighed, turning away from him, exposing my back, something that I had been taught never to do; By my fellow amazons, my experiences, even by Bruce himself.

But I didn't care. Couldn't bring myself too. Everything just seemed to take on a shade of gray. A dull lifeless hue that saturated the very air I seemed to breathe these days.

I sighed, blinking the rainwater away from my eyes before I slumped against the wall, head bowed to the heavily falling rain, feeling the repeated pats to the back of my head as the little droplets struck and trailed down to the tips of my hair.

"What do you want here?" I asked hoping against hope that this conversation would be quick.

He leaped over the edge, a flare of his cape as the electric current within his gloves made the sheen of black into rigid curves that caught the wind and slowed his descent.

He landed to my right, his back to me as he did before he turned with a fluid about face, allowing me to see him fully.

Allowing me to see all the differences.

He was slimmer, his body structure more lithe and athletic than Bruce's. The broad shoulders that had crowned the Dark Knight like iron pauldrons of armor to appear all the more imposing were replaced by thinner ones of a younger man. The dwarfing height was also gone, Bruce was a man whom, when standing close, I actually had to look up to slightly, being an inch or so taller than I was. This man was an inch or two shorter.

And of course...the face.

This thin, elfin face was not Bruce's. This man, willing and strong as he may be...was not Batman. And every moment he stood here seemed to dangle that information in front of my face with taunting innocence.

Taunting and mocking.

"What do you want?" I repeated again, turning my gaze away, hoping to avoid his sight. But every few moments I would catch sight of the edge of that cape and my heart would tighten in my chest all over again.

He didn't answer and this silence served only to increase the pressure of whatever tight coil had wrapped around my chest, seeking to suffocate me in its crushing embrace.

Bruce would usually remain silent when I asked him something. Either that or he'd-

"Why did you shut off your communicator?"

A bitter chuckle escaped my lips, a wheezing, feeble thing as I hugged my arms to gain some warmth due to the sudden chill that had creeped into my bones.

-he'd answer a question...with another question.

I looked to him then, and I could only imagine what I must have looked like for the somber look of worry to cross his features, however briefly.

"Did you not ever think that perhaps I wanted to be left alone." I said, simply, once again hoping that Gotham's new protector would, as Shayera may say, take the hint.

"Right. Alone." He growled through a withering glare. "So that someone else, like Luthor, or Grundy, could find you nice and alone."

"I can take care of myself!" I shot back; angry at the insinuation. "You're the one that needs protection!"

As soon as the words spilled from my lips I wish I could have taken them back. That familiar, sharp sting piercing my chest through and through, the armor of Hephaestus doing nothing to shield me from this internal assault on my person.

My limbs felt heavy and weak, even as I leaned against the wall.

I found myself looking up to the pitch black clouds above. What I was looking for I didn't know, and with a rumble of thunder once again vibrating through my body I felt myself sliding further and further down, feeling the grit of the granite scratch against my elbows as I slid down.

All the energy seemed to have been sapped out of me, and whatever blessings of strength and speed my gods had so graciously given me at birth was now gone, taken...

Just as he'd been taken...

"They wouldn't find me..." I answered with a sigh, not turning to face him again as I rested my head against the cold granite of the building, feeling the rain now falling against my face, the cold droplets, almost soothing despite its violent cascade.

"I found you." He answered simply.

I opened my eyes before turning to face him, finding the familiar sight of the armor and cowl. A sight that once brought a smile to my face now served only to make this man seem all the more alien, all the more out of place.

I looked away again, bringing my knees up to my chest, instead of having my feet dangling over the side. And for a moment I found myself wondering just how he did manage to accomplish that task.

As if he read my mind, just as Bruce had done so many times he answered with no need for me to voice my query. "This was...Bruce's favorite patrol spot."

I don't think Kal-El could have struck me harder even if he tried. And I felt the breath stolen from my lungs.

Hera, as the statement brewed within my mind I could almost feel it threaten to take the heart of me. And whatever lingering will I held crumbled away along with the resolve to hold back my tears, which now mingled seamlessly with the rain water that trailed down my face.

I'd never realized...whenever Bruce and I were teamed together to take on some assignment in Gotham, we would indeed, end up on the roof of this skyscraper. He'd explained, once that it offered the best signal strength in the entire city, to tune into the various listening devices he had all around Gotham all at once, even hack into several new ones while he was up here...

Was he showing me this place for more than just that though? Was it his way of...saying something more?

A strangled sob forced its way up my throat and I only barely held it back before pressing a palm to cover my eyes uncaring that this young man may see me in this moment of vulnerability. It didn't matter anymore...nothing seemed to mater anymore.

"Wonder Woman..." The young man at my side said, his low baritone barely scratching the surface of my consciousness.

I waited for him to continue, to say whatever lecture he came here to say and leave me be. To leave me to my grief at peace.

But the harsh words and scathing remarks never came. Neither did his glares or growls or signature sarcastic humor.

It was only a heavy hand, warm despite, glove that covered it, and the cold rain that drenched it. It fell onto my shoulder with a soft reassurance and gentle pressure.

Startled, I looked up, finding the familiar cowl covering the unfamiliar face. But those elfin features were soft now, holding a compassion within them. "I know..."

It was a simple statement, so soft it was nearly caught in the hiss of the rain before it reached me.

And once again, the reality of this situation slapped me across the face.

This...was not Batman...this would never be, Batman to me. As strong as he may be, as skilled and cunning, he will never become Batman...He...

He...wasn't Bruce.

I stood up, abruptly pulling myself away from the gentle grip, finding the flesh cold in its wake.

"Please..." I felt myself whisper, my voice, barely recognizable to my own ears.

It felt weak...pitiful...and neither my Amazonian pride, my royal discipline nor my concern of appearing vulnerable in front of this man came to my defense in the face of this. "Just leave..."

There was nothing for several moments. Nothing but the deafening hiss of the rain, drowning out the city beneath us.

It was the heavy flutter of that dark cape that alerted me to the young man's compliance with my request.

I breathed heavily swallowing down my sobs before I hugged myself, still feeling the chill of the rain seeping into my body with unrelenting tenacity.

"Damn you Bruce." I choked out, my throat feeling as though my heart had lodged into my esophagus while my entire body shook with forces brought on from something other than the cold.

My eyes burned behind tightly closed lids, and the tears that leaked from them was warm in comparison to the perpetual cold.

My legs shook, they felt weak again. I felt weak again. And before I could stop myself I simply collapsed, falling onto my knees with a heavy, bruising thud.

I clenched my fists tightly, feeling the sting of my fingernails piercing the skin of my palms scarlet liquid weeping through the crevices of tightly closed fists

Everything felt as though it was coming down around my ears with the full force of this thunderstorm, and I was powerless to stop it.

Just as I was powerless to stop him from dying...

It was too much, far too much, and I could do nothing more than scream.

I screamed and screamed and screamed. I screamed until my throat felt raw, until my voice failed me altogether and even until the bitter taste of blood stung the back of my throat and when I was done, I simply collapsed. Falling still along this buildings edge.

Was this pain now, merely a fraction of what I would have felt? Would it be worse if we had become something? Was he right all along? Was he right to protect me as he had?

Why did I come here? Why did I ever leave the idyllic shores of my home for this place? This place where pain could be found in every corner with such unbelievable ease.

I found myself longing for those warm sands and crystal blue waters, for armored honor guards and musics from the harps as the artisans continued to perfect their chosen craft among the gardens near the rooms of Poseidon's fountains.

I wanted to go back...I wanted to go back and escape from...all of this...to just leave

But I cant even do that can I?

Hera...it hurt....it hurt so much, easier it would be to face the abyss of Tartarus for a thousand lifetimes than to endure this pain for one more second.

As I lay there, feeling the rain continuing to pound mercilessly against my exposed flesh, as I continued to doubt and wonder...I felt tired...drained, unable to move...unwilling to move.

I simply wanted to lay there and let the world swallow me whole. To have the long years of my life utterly spent in this solitude if it never meant having to experience this again.

And suddenly I felt everything stop, and the cold that had dug its talons deep into my flesh seemed to vanish, pushed back by some unknown force.

The cold did not reach me, the rain felt distant as though a protective layer of clothing was drawn over me and new strength returned to my limbs, allowing me to lift myself onto my knees.

The shadow of the city curled in around me, a sudden blackness enveloping me until I felt myself shrouded in its embrace. A void where no light could reach me.

My eyes were wide, glistening with tears as I slowly, tentatively glanced around me, searching for the man I knew would never again be there.

"Bruce..."

The question was soft, hesitant, and I was only greeted by deafening silence.

But the presence around me became stronger, the warmth spreading through my limbs and gathering in my chest.

And suddenly...suddenly I remembered...His words and voice coming back to me with that same strength he carried with him in every action he'd ever done in his life.

* * *

"_Stop that."_

_My heart leapt into my throat with sudden fright as the clipped, growling voice slashed into my ears with force that jarred my body into rigidity. _

_The practice machine in front of me shut down with a loud beep, its single red eye dimming from bright ruby to rusted brown as its arms fell still at its side._

_Around me, the artificial creature's brethren lay strewn and broken in various forms of dismemberment, gears and twisted metal spilling from their shattered husks._

_I spun around finding the familiar pillar of black standing at the doorway, single outstretched hand pressing down on the shut off button on the practice machines. _

"_Batman." I greeted, breathing heavily from the recent exertion before I straightened, leveling my eyes onto him. "What do you-"_

"_This equipment isn't cheap princess." He interrupted, narrowed eyes hidden by the lenses of his cowl. "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't use them to uselessly pound away until you feel better about being banished from your home."_

_I felt my fury rise and could almost feel it seeping into my eyes; molding and changing my expressions as it did. _

_To have this most recent of wounds torn open and agitated by this, the most presumptuous and physically weak **man**, in the league. My alliance be damned!_

"_Unless you wish to find yourself on the receiving end of my 'useless pounding' rather than these machines. I suggest you leave and do not pretend to speak of things you know nothing of; you who hide so contentedly in the shadows like a true coward."_

_The man said nothing, did nothing, only answered with a nauseating crack of his neck. "Please." He scoffed. "Spare me your words from your high horse and see if you can really lay a finger on me...**Princess...**"_

_The title was mocking and I could see the lilt of amusement dancing within his expression and he did nothing to hide it._

_I found myself flying across the room before I could even comprehend my feet had left the metal floor._

_I lashed out with all my strength, pouring myself into this game of cat and mouse as he continued to dance around my attacks, dodging and weaving with ease that only added to my fury._

_All my Amazonian fighting techniques, all my weapons training and experience, all my anger and shame and sorrow. I poured everything into this fight, and I though I could see the flaws this rush of emotion brought to my technique, I didn't care, and merely continued as I was with reckless abandon._

_He slithered between my strikes like a living shadow, ethereal and abstract._

_Until finally, my hand struck true._

_My fingers curled around the base of his neck, lifting him bodily off the ground and slamming him against the cold metal walls of the practice room._

_I felt my chest heaving with every breath, sweat trickling down my cheek as I glared up into the lenses of his cowl, only to find that damnable smirk still present over his face, even in the wake of his defeat. _

"_Feel better now?"_

_I blinked, my anger evaporating like water in the blistering heat of a desert as I stared up into those white lenses, flabbergasted. "Wha-"_

_He slipped free of my grip, trailing down the wall before he straightened his cowl and armor back into place from where I'd moved it. The smirk was gone, but the feel of...contentment, still emanated from him. _

_I opened my mouth, hoping to find a more eloquent vocabulary with which to vocalize my question this time around, before he spoke again, interrupting me before I could even begin. _

"_You're stronger than this." He said, voice once again firm and controlled._

"_What do you-"_

_He stepped up close, staring at me from behind that cowl before he made to brush past me, pausing as his right shoulder touched my left. _

"_Nothing lasts forever princess. Just as impossible as it may have seemed a month ago for you to find yourself exiled...you may see it impossible for this exile to be lifted today...you will see your home again...after all...time is something you have in abundance"_

_I looked to him, mouth and eyes wide in comprehension as I craned my neck to look at him, even as he kept his gaze firmly forward. _

"_Ba-batman...I..."_

_He said nothing more. Neither did he allow me to finish, marching past me and leaving the room, as silently as he had come. _

_And I found myself smiling...a sudden gratitude swelling through my chest as I looked to the last spot I'd seen the Dark Knight._  


* * *

As the memory reached out to me...so did I reach out around me, hoping to grasp onto this darkness as one would grasp a winter coat, hoping to pull it closer to me.

But my fingers only grasped air, and my burning eyes could only begin to see the shadows that shifted, so I could only just see the edge of that cape once again, wrapped around me like a protective blanket against the harsh world. But every time I tried to look at it, to bring it into focus, the shadows vanished, melding into the background of the city's lights and bubbling chorus of sounds.

Is it you...are you truly here?

I felt myself being lifted, and I stood to my full height, hands falling to my side as I no longer needed them to warm my shivering arms...They weren't shivering anymore.

The shadowed veil tightened around me, and I could almost feel its caress over my skin, and the familiar feel of that gaze boring into the back of my head, the thin, almost invisible hairs along my arms standing on end with the sensation.

I closed my eyes, once again staring upwards into the pitch black sky. And as the presence began to recede, to retreat into whatever abyss it had come from I felt myself smile, a languid upturn of my lips as I pressed my hand over my heart.

Looking down into the city again, I felt the shadowed presence retreat completely, only a lingering sensation, like a caress to my cheek remaining to mark that it had ever been there.

I rose up, levitating higher and higher, watching the distant lights become specks, and the specs become glimmers, and the glimmers become tiny little dots, fading into nothingness as I rose above the clouds, parting the masses of moisture in my passing, finding the bright, massive face of the full moon hanging over my head, as I finally broke through undimmed by the world beneath me now..

I pressed a hand over my heart again, feeling the lingering warmth there as I did.

Bruce....

"_You are stronger than this..."_

I took a deep breath, feeling as though I'd just woken up from a dream, stumbled out of a thick fog and could now see clearly once again...

I wasn't sure...if this would last...or if what I'd felt back there...was even real...but...if it was...then...

Then just as impossible as it seemed for you to die a month ago...

I may see it as impossible for you to come back to me today.

_Nothing lasts forever_

Those...those had been your words...weren't they?

I breathed in the crisp night air around me, taking new life into my lungs as I did. Feeling more and more of my strength return with each breath.

"Alright Bruce...alright..." I whispered to the frigid darkness around him, feeling the wind catch my hair. Smiling, I pressed my hand over my heart once again.

If...if you will come back to me....then I will wait...as long as it takes...

I will wait...

After all...time is something I have in abundance.

I will wait for you...

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Diana's chapter was by far the hardest I've had to write to date. Its a chapter one doesnt want to overplay nor underplay either. Not to mention that she, more than any other league member was feeling grief. The others, even Clark to an extent were still more or less in shock.

So yea. She was very hard, and I hope I was able to give her some justice. Read and Review please


	8. Epilogue

**From the private journals of Amelia Sanders:**

**15 years ago, on May 26th 2009 the hero known as Batman saved my life. **

**And fifteen years ago, on May 26th 2009; I know he died to do so.**

**They never said it. Never tried to. Never wanted to probably.**

**They tried to cover it up. To throw his death behind a veil by giving further appearances of the Batman within the criminal underworld. **

**But they couldn't lie to me for long. I got older. I learned.**

**And most importantly. I remember. **

**I remember the blood, his weakening condition, the labored breathing, the swaying footsteps.**

**The look in Wonder Woman's eyes when I said he was still inside.**

**I remember it all as if it happened yesterday. Maybe as if it happened mere moments ago. **

**That's how I know. That's how I didn't believe what the rest of the world did. **

**That the Batman that patrolled Gotham City after May 26th 2009 was the same man that had patrolled it for nearly a decade before. **

**I searched for him when I came of age. Dug up old records, newspaper articles. I sniffed out every scrap of evidence I could find. **

**Because I wanted to find him. I wanted to find the man that saved my life. The real one. Not the figurative image, or the one that took his place for a short while after that. **

**And now...after the better part of a decade worth of research and gathering evidence...**

**I think I may have.**

* * *

The stone beneath her feet gave way with a crack, and her body lurched forward, smacking her bodily against the stone in front of her with a scrape before she found herself another footing, fingers grasping at the jagged edges of the rock as the nylon rope tied firmly to her harness was pulled taut from above.

" Melia!" Came the startled cry, followed shortly by its echo. "Melia!!! Are you alright."

The young woman leaned back on the rock, enough to peer upwards at the speck above that stood out amidst the stark white facade laid out behind him by the overpassing cloud, revealing an aged bearded face.

"I'm alright Dan!" She said with a small smile before she tugged on the rope. "Give me some more slack. It was nothing but some loose gravel." She said, peering down into the abyss below with her helmet light.

There was nothing, 42 feet down and she still couldn't even glance at the bottom.

"You sure it was just some loose gravel and not the start of a cave in? Because I swear girl if you get buried in a cave in I'll bring a construction crew up here to dig you out just to beat you to death myself." The man yelled

Amelia felt the smile still tugging at her lips. "You'd _better_ bring the construction crew down here if there's a cave in smart ass!" She said in a relatively normal tone of voice, the echoes carrying themselves up towards the older male.

Daniel grunted "Bring the damn crew down here if I feel like it." He muttered, mostly to himself.

He rechecked the knot tied to the trucks bumper, checked the belay device, never once allowing both hands to leave the rope, keeping them firmly tightened around the twisted strands of nylon.

He looked off to the side, to the ruined remains of the old, Wayne Mannor, destroyed back in 2016, by a ruptured Gas line. Took out half the house, and destabilized the foundations. Nothing could be built here ever again for fear the whole cliff face would fall away into the churning sea below.

Infact...what the hell were they doing here anyway?

How does he always get dragged into these wild goose chases with her?

She rappelled further and further down, the rope passing through the hooks firmly nailed into the rock face.

The darkness of this cave creped up around her, forming up over her waist, her stomach, breasts and neck, consuming her until even the helmet flashlight seemed dimmer in the bleakness.

The passage grew narrower, to the point that she had to could feel the opposite wall scrape against her back if she pushed too far away during her rappel.

The dampness moistened the rope and cooled her flesh, warmth held in by the thick material of her hiking coat. It would make climbing back up more dangerous but she continued on, descending further and further into the darkness.

The ground rose up to her feet with the abruptness of freezing water on a feverish man. She stumbled, as though the weight of her own body were unfamiliar to her legs, hand falling onto the wall to recover her equilibrium.

She glanced around the darkened cave, finding nothing but black in front of her eyes, a darkness so thick, even with the helmet flashlight, she could scarcely see beyond her own hand.

* * *

**Gotham City's become a wasteland of despotism and misery since he died. **

**The streets aren't even streets anymore. They're gutters. And the gutters are filled with nothing but the filth of the city and the blood of their victims. The skyscrapers aren't skyscrapers either. They're merely cages of concrete, steel and glass, holding the vultures that look down in order to pick off the spoils for their own gain. **

**For a time. The Batman that came after tried to keep up. To maintain the tight reigns the one before him had kept.**

**But he couldn't, not for long. And after a year and a half, two at best...he was gone. **

**After him, came various other members of the Justice League. I'd never bothered to learn their names. They all came down like UN peace corp. They hoped to stave off the tide of criminals, and the re-emerging underworld that was now spreading through the streets of Gotham like a fungus.**

**They all failed, and even when the greatest of them, Superman, had momentarily taken this city under his wing, he too, failed to drive them back. **

**No...there was only one person who could ever hold this city's criminals at bay. One person that could strike fear into their eyes with the very mention of his name, or the mere glimpse of that signal in the sky. **

**And he was dead...dead...because of me...**

**

* * *

**

The radio in my belt hissed with a crackle of life, static obscuring the words, though they were still discernible.

"Me-ia * static * -elia. You alright? Have you reached the bottom?"

"Yea Dan I'm here." She said pulling out the radio as she unhooked her helmet, and began unstrapping the various ropes and harnesses from her person.

They clattered noisily to the floor, clings and clangs that echoed through the cave. Amelia reached down, pulling away the flashlight from the side of her helmet and pointing it deep into the darkness.

She took a tentative step forward, then another, and another, a slow, cautious gait as she made her way through the cavernous hall.

The edges of the walls seemed to close in around her, their jagged edges jutting out like teeth. She maneuvered between them, attempting to find some inkling, some hint, that this was the place she'd been searching for all along.

But there was nothing. Nothing but the damp, cold dark that lingered in this place like a festering acid.

She sighed, another dead end, and she'd been so sure this time...so sure...

A creature screeched over her head the flapping of its wings so close to her head startled her, prying a shocked scream from her throat

Its eyes glowed a ruby red, hissing and snarling in front of her face, fangs glinting off the flickering illumination of her flashlight.

She flailed her arms, backing away with a frantic steps. She hadn't even realized, that somewhere along the way she'd hit the head of the light with one of the rocks, shattering the bulb, and letting the piece of machinery die in her hands.

The creature still continue to flap and flare its wings angrily. Its little claws scratched at her arms and drove her back.

Soon, only the ball of her foot came in contact with the floor, startled, the traction of her shoe gave way, her leg dropping down into blackened abyss.

She tried to reach out, grasp at something, but her fingers met nothing but loose gravel, she slid, down, down until finally the screeching ruby eyed devil above her drove her away fully.

She fell.

* * *

**This city's afraid of its own shadows today. People, good people, scarcely exit their homes unless its to work, or to buy themselves food.**

**The schools lay nearly empty, and the local graduation statistics indicate that less than 20% graduate high school...less than that even make it to college. **

**On the way here. We would see kids in the street, bottles in paper bags in hand. A constant shifting in their posture as they grasped at something beneath their coats that weighed too much for their young muscles to be straining with. **

**Others were even worse, eyes bloodshot and red from drug use, sniffing as they scratched away at irritated markings over calloused veins, searching for their next fix.**

**Those that were not a part of this corrupt mass of bodies and disgust, were none the less, affected by it. It was a sad sight, watching these people as they scurried about the streets like scared rats, looking to escape a sinking ship.**

**But a sinking ship is surrounded by water...so there is no escape...for anyone. **

**This city has lost everything. Its dignity, its pride, its self respect, its self worth...its courage. And its something you can see in the eyes of its people, as they go about their days with an almost, detached sense of uncaring for their own human condition. **

**It needs its hope back...**

* * *

The cold earth rose up to meet her back and the base of her neck, as she tumbled into the depths of this earthy prison.

The stalagmite teeth of the cave glinted, even with the dim light, razor edges passing mere centimeters past her face.

They slashed and cut at her body, slicing through skin, flesh, muscle and fabric. The injuries went unregistered with the fear driven adrenaline that coursed through her veins.

She met the ground with a bounce, the recoil of her legs bodily launching her across the open space.

Her cheek scraped against the floor with a wince, small little hairline cuts breaking the skin on her cheek.

She pushed herself up off the floor, rubbing the irritated skin with the rough back of her hand.

As she moved her arm she hissed, just now registering a cut on her left bicep, and another on the side of her right knee.

She pushed herself to a sitting position, gingerly testing her limbs to make sure none of the tendons had been cut, thats the last thing she needed. She wouldn't be able to feel the full extent of the damage until the adrenaline wore off.

The radio crackled to life again, and Amelia heard Dan's worried voice frantically calling into the receiver.

She moved to answer, reaching down to her belt.

But her hands fell limp onto the small device, eyes finally adjusting to the blackness around her.

She blinked, once, twice, three times. Slowly, making sure her sight wasn't deceiving her.

She stood slowly, wincing as her leg muscles gave way a bit, before they compensated for the injury.

She approached tentatively, slowly, as if a hurried pace would force this all to vanish from her sight, fade into nothing but mists, shadow and dream, before being swallowed by the endless black around her.

She reached out when she was closer, fingers, ghosting over the buttons and computer keys before she raised her eyes to look over the cracked remains of what must have been a monitor once.

She looked to its side, where stones buried half of the keys,a nd had crushed several delicate instruments beneath their weight

The radio at her hip crackled to life again, making her jump with a yell.

When she moved, she must have pressed something, because with a flickering of electrical sparks, the monitor bloomed to life, its screen white and blank in its damaged state

Suddenly, all around her, lights flickered on in the cave, systematically, as though timed. Most, died away in mere moments, but others remained, allowing her sight.

To the far end of this hollowed cavity of stone she saw now the broken remains of some giant penny. Closer, but beyond reach due to a shattered catwalk, what appeared to have been a chemical lab station at one point.

The room was obscured, and veiled, even with the new illumination. And for a moment, she wondered if infact she had stumbled into the broken basement of some collector rather than...well...who she thought she may find here...she had expected to see...some kind of solid eviden-

With an echoing _-__**Clang-**_ rising up from the abyss, her eyes snapped downwards to the void. And a strangled gasp escaped her throat as far below her still, the shattered remnants of what could only have been the Batmobile became visible to her.

It's once sleek edges and ridges were rust ridden, broken, and fiberglass was scattered across the floor in a decadent heap that mocked this vehicles former glory.

But Amelia found she could not care. A smile tugged at her lips, as it would a child that had just awoken on Christmas day to find every toy on the list beneath the brightly lit tree.

She felt like jumping for joy, to say the least. And most likely would have done so if she hadn't had the mind to remember that one of her legs was injured.

Her celebration was broken however. Another clang, this one closer and louder, yet...whispered somehow, reached her ears through the gloom of the cave.

Amelia became aware of a bridge walkway to her far right, the lights along its edges turning on in synchronization from her end, until it reached the other side.

Through the shadowed veil she saw the silhouette of what appeared to be some kind of capsule.

Her heart leaped to her throat, a sudden trepidation gripping the pit of her stomach.

Her breath felt thin and shallow in her lungs, as if it was no longer enough to sustain her.

She swallowed thickly, focusing on placing one foot in front of the other, and pushing down this illogical fear that had risen up within her.

The walkway seemed narrow to her, and with every step she felt as though she would fall over its edge. A precipice of her own making in which she would succumb to whatever fates had been devised for her.

But she pushed on, her eyes fixed on her goal as her pulse quickened. Hammering against her chest as her own blood rushed through her ears, isolating her to the world around her.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to her, she stood before the capsule, finding only a shield of reflective glass between herself, and what she sought.

She could see herself in the reflection,her normally straight chestnut hair disheveled, cuts and scrapes marring her tanned skin as green eyes stared straight back at her.

She pushed aside the barrier with a resonating clang as its edge hit the end of the track.

The lights behind her died away. Whatever remaining auxiliary power that had given them momentary life had finally been drained away into nothingness, finally, leaving an empty husk...as was apparently intended...

She didn't notice this however, her eyes remained fixated on the treasure within the capsule. She could still see it, even with the blackness in this cave now with the lights gone, it still stood out, blending seamlessly into the shadows but resonating outwards to her.

She reached for it and grasped the cowl firmly with both hands.

Suddenly, there was a rush of movement all around her, and the shadows came alive with screeching and hissing. The flapping of wings echoed through the cave like thunderclaps and she drew back, frightened.

The moving blackness shifted and wailed as if agitated, angry.

Her head whipped around to and fro, finding thousands of little red eyes glaring at her from their places in the shadows, swirling around her like a tornado. Her hair was caught in the wind generated by their flapping wings, the jacket she wore, torn open in the fall was caught in the shifting air currents as well making it dance around her waist.

She should feel fear. She should feel terror at these beasts...trapped here in the dark, with all of them watching her as though she were prey, and they were the predators.

But she didn't, these creatures shrieking and clawing...it wasn't frightening, it did not make her hackles rise, or the instinct to flee prevail over all others.

No...these creatures...their..voices...they did not feel frightening

As they circled her, scratched her, screeched,hissed, bit, surrounded, clawed at her...they...embraced her.

Her eyes turned back to the cowl, who's lenses glowed with their own life in the darkness. She reached out once again. And as her fingers brushed against it, in the most tentative of touches she closed her eyes, and felt the darkness around her coil and shift once again.

A caress to her ear sent a shiver down her spine and she stiffened as a voice, hissing and filled with wrath, but no malice, trailed along the shell of her ear, scratching the outer edges of her senses, but ringing louder and more true than anything else she'd ever been aware of in her life...

Its words were...

_**'Welcome'**_

* * *

**From the private journals of Amelia Sanders:**

**15 years ago, on May 26th 2009 the hero known as Batman saved my life. **

**And fifteen years ago. On May 26th 2009; I know he died to do so...**

**And now...Fifteen years later, on August 17th 2024...I've found a way to honor that sacrifice...**

**I've found a way...to give Gotham back the hope it's lost.**

XXXXXXXXXXXX

I used a rather "unconventional" method to write this chapter, at least as far as we see in Fanfiction. I wanted to give a history of Gotham after batman died, but I didnt want Amelia thinking about this as she goes down. It seemed too out of place in my eyes when she would be focussing on "is this the place? is this not the place? more than reminiscing. Getting caught up in the moment as most young people would do. So I used the "Journal" approach. Something inspired by, admittedly Allan Moore's "Rorshacks Journal" approach in "The Watchmen." graphic novel.

This chapter came to me very easilly. So much so that finishing it was something I was able to do in a single night. This may not be what most people expected but its something I feel works and brings things to full circle. So, for better or worse this is now the official end of Knightfall hope you all enjoyed the trip as much as I enjoyed writing it. My thanks to everyone.


End file.
